


Cupid Flies Commercial

by IndePUNdent_Thinking



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Feels, I mean enemy-ish?, Love, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut, eventually, sexy times will be had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndePUNdent_Thinking/pseuds/IndePUNdent_Thinking
Summary: Emma Swan is having the worst trip of her life, only to have a sexy Irishman come along and make it worse. He's rude, he's arrogant, and Emma can't stop fighting with him. When their antagonism somehow lands them in bed for a very steamy layover, Emma just thinks it's a one-time thing. And that's all it was--until he shows up on her doorstep.Inspired by Samantha Young's Fight or Flight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read Fight or Flight by Samantha Young, you should! I was so inspired after reading it, I wrote about 2 chapters of this in one sitting. 
> 
> Obviously, I own neither, but a girl can dream!

Emma Swan was already having a terrible day before her flight was cancelled. She’d woken up late, nursing a bad hangover, and in her rush to make her (now cancelled) flight, she had to forgo a cup of coffee. She’d barely made it in time, sprinting to her gate, only to arrive just as they started to announce that the flight was cancelled, due to ‘weather conditions’ out East.

She let out a big sigh, unwilling to wait until the end of the announcement. Since the passengers would be rebooked, she figured she’d get ahead of the rest. She slung her backpack over her shoulder, and started striding over to the attendant at the gate, who was beaming her direction. The attendant, a small brunette, was overly smiley for someone who’d have to deal with over a hundred disgruntled passengers, but Emma shrugged it off.

Just as she neared the desk, she was rudely shoved by a hefty laptop bag and its owner. He was a tall, raven-haired man who took her place, and probably didn’t even realize that he had hit her.

“I need to be rebooked through to Boston, please. Upgrade me too.” He said in a gruff Irish (or so Emma thought) accent.

The brunette blushed, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Of course, sir. Let me just check…We’ll have to reroute you through Chicago, and it’s an overnighter, I’m sorry…but you’re in luck, Mr Jones. I can upgrade you to the last remaining seat in first class.”

Emma was furious. Not only did this guy shove her out of the way and not apologize, he took the last first class seat (that she was hoping to convince the attendant to upgrade her to for free).

“It’s fine.” He said, waving it off. “I’ll take it. Just so long I’m getting out of Tallahassee today.”

“What?” Emma said, shoving her way up to the counter.

The rude Irishman (the name Emma had been calling him in her head) turned to face her, and Emma had to suck in a breath.

The man was gorgeous. Model gorgeous. A thick growth of dark hair that fell artfully across his forehead, he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen- even bluer than Elsa’s, if that was possible. He had sharp cheekbones, and a hint of a handlebar moustache around his (unexpectedly) full lips. She couldn’t decide if it was more than just scruff, but it looked good. Even his outfit – tailored navy suit – screamed model. No wonder the attendant was so eager to please! Still, it would take a lot more than a pretty face to rattle Emma Swan.

“What?” he said, staring at her as if she were a crazy person.

“You,” she said, jabbing a finger at him, “shoved me out of the way and took the seat I wanted. It should have been mine.”

He blinked once and waved his hand dismissively at her. “You’re mistaken, lass. I didn’t see you. I got this seat fair and square.” He then turned back around to take his new boarding pass and his passport from the attendant. “Excuse the shrieking lady.” He told her.

Emma’s fury turned into blind rage and it took all the strength that she had not to deck the man across his stupid, attractive face.

“Excuse me?!”

He turned around and looked at her again, this time with a sneer of condescension.

“Sorry, Princess. Guess you won’t get your way this time.”

And with that, he strode off.

Emma wanted to scream. She wanted to storm off and shove the man into the nearest potted plant. Alas, her rational brain told her to get her ticket and then run off to maim and murder the man. He as bad as some of the perps she dealt with!

She’d get the last word.

“Whatever, dick!” she yelled at his rapidly retreating back. She hoped he had heard.

She then took a deep breath, and turned to the desk.

“I need to be rebooked to Boston, please.” She forced a smile at the attendant, who stared at eye with wide eyes.

“Right. Um, sorry about that. I did see you approach, but he happened to get in front.”

Happened? The attendant was acting like he had power-walked ahead of her instead of practically throwing her out of the way.

“So we’re rerouting a lot of the passengers through Chicago. And the connection leaves the next day, sorry. I’ll put you on our waiting list for first class, though. In case something opens up.”

She paused.

“We’re really sorry.” And she sounded like she meant it.

Emma smiled genuinely at the attendant, who smiled sheepishly back.

“Thank you,”-she peered at the name badge-“Aurora.”

She took her ticket and vouchers, stuffing them all haphazardly into her bag.

At least the day couldn’t get any worse.

* * *

Her flight was rerouted through O’Hare, with an overnight stay at the airport hotel. She didn’t want to spend any more time away from Boston, and it was at least a 3 hour flight, but at least it would be a nice break. And the airline was paying for it, so even better.

The one other small silver lining was that now she had a little time to go grab a coffee. Spying a coffee cart with a short line, she hurried over. The flight to O’Hare was boarding in 15 minutes, and there were only 5 people in line. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spied someone heading towards the same line.

That someone was the Rude Irishman. Suddenly Emma’s anger was back.

She sprinted to the line, just managing to make it in front of him.

“You snooze, you lose.” She shot over her shoulder.

“Real mature.” He shot back.

“Doesn’t matter. Here’s one line you can’t shove your way through.”

“You really _are_ crazy.”

“You really are a dick!”

“You’re weirdly obsessed with my dick.”

She spun around in indication.

“Those are insults. Surely you must get a ton of those a day.”

“Perhaps, but none that are that specific.”

Without meaning to, Emma’s eyes drifted to the very subject matter they were discussing, but she caught herself quickly. She couldn’t stop the blush though.

“It hurts to be objectified like this.”

She glared at his smug face.

“Whatever. Dick.” She smirked at him. “I’m still ahead of you.”

He didn’t respond, just strode out of the line, heading towards the front.

Emma’s jaw dropped. Was he just going to cut in front? Oh hell no! She took off after him.

He reached the front of the line when Emma caught up to him. Why’d he have such a long stride?

“Excuse me, madam, my flight is departing soon. Would you mind if I cut in?” He said to the older lady in front of him, turning on the charm.

She smiled at him, clearly affected by his dumb cute smile. “Of course, dear.”

She stepped aside and let him get in front.

“I love your accent. Where’s it from?”

“Ireland.” He responded with a smile.

_You can’t just cut the line like that! There are other people waiting_! Emma wanted to yell. Instead, she turned to the woman with a charming (or so she hoped) smile of her own.

“I’m on the same flight as this man, would you mind letting me jump ahead as well?”

The Irishman snorted, and she glared at his back.

The older lady, frowned, and tapped his arm, and he turned around to face her.

“Do you know this woman?” she asked.

He glanced over at Emma, a blank expression on his face.

“I’ve never seen this woman before in my life.”

Emma’s mouth fell open.

The older lady’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so, missy. Back to the line with you.”

Emma glared at the Irishman, wanting to scream at him, but he smirked at her.

“Better hurry, lass. There’s quite a queue forming.”

She whirled around to confirm, and somehow, ten other people had joined the line! There was no way she was getting her coffee now.

“Thanks, dick!” She yelled, as she stormed away, but not before noticing his shoulders shake from a silent laugh.

She headed to her gate, and proceeded to the counter to see if maybe, just maybe, she could snag a first class seat. She really needed a win.

She smiled at the attendant as she approached, a kindly looking man with red curls and wire-rimmed glasses.

“Hi, I’m on the waiting list for first class…and I was wondering…” she trailed off and smiled hopefully.

The man smiled back.

“Of course miss, let me check.” He gestured for her boarding pass, which she gratefully handed over.

She heard him tap away at his computer for a few minutes, his expression unreadable.

Then his head shot up and he grinned widely at her.

“You’re very lucky, miss Swan. We’ve had someone cancel, so I’m able to book you all the way through to Boston on first class.”

She could have kissed the man.

“Thank you, thank you! You don’t know how much this means!”

He laughed softly and shook his head.

“Just doing my job, miss. Have a great flight.”

* * *

“You have got to be kidding.”

She had lingered a bit before boarding, sequestering herself in a corner so that she could fire off texts to David and Elsa to update them of the situation. When she finally did board, she was faced with a nasty surprise.

Her seatmate was none other than the Irishman. _What had she done to deserve this_?

To his credit, he didn’t look happy to see her either.

“Are you following me?” he asked, with a quirked eyebrow.

Emma snorted in disgust.

“Hell no. I’d rather throw myself off a mountain.”

“Bit harsh, love.”

Emma scowled at him.

“I’m not your love, and my seat is the window, so move, buddy.”

He stood up and moved to let her in, wordlessly gesturing to her seat.

She made her way in, plopping down in her seat.

“Give me your bag.”

“What?” she asked in confusion.

He sighed.

“Your bag. I’ll put it in the bin for you.”

Emma deflated a bit.

“Oh. Err, thanks.”

She held her bag out to him, and he reached up to put it in the overhead bin. Somewhere along the way from stealing her coffee and boarding the plane, he’d ditched his jacket, rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and also managed to untuck his shirt. A shirt that happened to rise up when he stretched, giving Emma a quick glance that confirmed what she already suspected – he had a nice body. Emma shook that thought out of her head.

He settled back down next to her.

Emma decided that she would just ignore him for the duration of the flight, but couldn’t help but get distracted by his arms. _Was that a tattoo peeking out from one of his sleeves_? Her eyes drifted up. _Had his first two buttons always been undone_? There was some chest hair that curled out at her. He was also wearing, she realised, a necklace with a skull and crossbones pendant. _Who was this guy_? _A pirate_?

He confused her – his outfit screamed business, but his necklace and tattoos screamed biker bad boy, and Emma never had a good encounter with either.

“See something you like?”

Emma’s eyes snapped up to meet his. Sure, there was a divider between them with a cup holder, but it was a lot smaller than she had assumed. There was no escaping each other’s gazes. Slightly embarrassed she was caught staring, she countered back.

“You wish.”

And then he surprised her by laughing.

“God, you’re a tough lass.”

Before Emma could respond, the flight attendant came by.

“May I offer you something to drink, Mr. Jones? Some champagne, perhaps?”

He tilted his body towards her.

“Two fingers of rum, if you’ve got it. Thanks.”

She nodded and looked over to Emma.

“And for you, Ms. Swan?”

“Coffee, please. But maybe the champagne too.”

Emma wasn’t going to turn down free champagne on her first (and probably only) first class experience.

They were each handed their drinks in turn, with the flight attendant promising to be back with Emma’s coffee.

Emma downed hers in one shot, and the Irishman shot her a bemused look.

“What?” she said defensively. “It’s been a long day.”

“Aye, that it has, love.”

“Not your love.”

His grin faded.

“Are you always ready for a fight, or are you just particularly determined to vex me?”

Emma bristled.

“I’m just not chummy with rude strangers who think it’s okay to shove people around.”

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Christ, we’ve been through this. I didn’t see you. And you have admit, you were acting a bit mental.”

“You were unbelievably rude! And you basically called me a princess who always gets her way!” she shot back.

“Oh, and your actions weren’t the actions of a woman who always gets her way? I thought you were going to throw a tantrum right there.”

“That’s rich coming from a prissy pretty boy who thinks he can flirt his way into everything.”

He snorted.

“Like you don’t bat your eyelashes and make men fawn all over you? I’m surprised you didn’t call up a sugar daddy and ask him to buy you a private plane!”

Emma was now more than enraged. No one had ever accused her of being spoiled and privileged. No one would after they found out what she’d been through. She leaned forward and across the divider to jab his arm with a finger.

“Listen buddy, I don’t have a sugar daddy, nor do I need one. I don’t need a man, full stop.”

She paused, thinking of something to throw back at him, to hurt him, but she couldn’t think of one. She was so angry and flustered by his words, she wasn’t sure what to say next. _Plus_ , she thought, _it would be an even longer fight if she kept bickering with this man._

“You don’t know me, okay? You don’t know my life.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Look, it’s been a very stressful trip and I….I don’t have to explain myself to you.” She finished, realizing that she was about to bring up the specifics of her trip, which wasn’t something she’d want to share with a stranger.

The Irishman said nothing, but continued to stare at her.

“You certainly don’t, lov-Swan.” He said finally.

And suddenly he was (kinda) nice again. What was his problem? He surprised her when he took her bag for her, and she was almost sure he was flirting with her when he caught her staring at him earlier, but his rapid switches in mood were giving her emotional whiplash. Still, better to keep things positive.

“Thanks, Jones.” She returned.

“Killian will do.”

 “Oh. Okay.”

“And this is the part where you tell me your name.”

“Swan is fine.”

He just rolled his eyes and shook his head at that.

The flight attendant was back, handing Emma her coffee and taking her empty glass.

“We’ll be taking off soon.” She told them both.

Emma nodded, and warmed her hands with her hot cup. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled the rich smell. She took a sip and let out a happy sigh. As soon as they were in the air, she’d pop an Advil and pass out.

She’d be on her way home soon, if Killian Jones didn't give her an aneurysm first.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a long one, at least the fun starts here!

As soon as she entered her hotel room, she dropped her bag and threw herself onto the bed. It was probably the best bed she’d ever been on – none of the crappy motels that she and Neal camped out in could ever compete. It didn’t hurt that it was free, too. She allowed herself to rest for an hour, and then woke up in order to shower. As she finished blow-drying her hair, her stomach began to protest. Emma frowned. Had she eaten on the plane? No – she was pretty sure that she slept through it. Thank god the airline also provided a meal voucher!

Emma decided to treat herself. She’d go down to the hotel. Have a nice meal by herself. _Her first vacation ever,_ she thought wryly to herself.

She poked around in her bag, but could only find the dress she wore to Lilly’s funeral. She’d only been in Tallahassee for the weekend, to say goodbye to her formerly best friend. She had been stunned when Mal called her with the news – She hadn’t heard from Lilly in years, not after her cruel betrayal when they were fifteen. Still, her heart ached for Lilly, and Mal too. The funeral had been sombre and altogether awful – she could hear the whispers and felt the cold stares. She was so sure that they all blamed her for Lilly’s waywardness. After all, she was the real orphan out of the two of them, with a longer history of running away from home than Lilly. Mal too was cold – she had called Emma out of courtesy, not kindness.

She was glad it was over.

She slipped on the black sheath dress. It fit her snugly, clinging to every curve. Mal had turned her nose up at the dress, clearly disapproving at how form fitting it was, but all of Emma’s dresses were purchased as props, meant to lure skeevy bail-jumpers in, so she had to make do with what she had.

She glanced at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look half bad. _Oh what the hell_ , she thought. _Might as well go all the way_. She dug out her battered makeup case, and applied a little makeup (some mascara, a little concealer, and a swipe of lipstick) before heading out the door.

The restaurant was nice – dark wood, plush chairs, dim lighting. It reminded her of her usual hunting grounds – why bail jumpers liked to take their dates to nice places, Emma couldn’t figure out. Shouldn’t they be laying low? Still, they were the only reasons that she got to go to nice restaurants. For once though, she could actually enjoy herself.

“Table for one, please.” She told the host, who nodded at her in acknowledgement, and motioned for Emma to follow him.

He led her past a table full of businessmen, who turned and gawked at Emma as she passed. Emma, noticing them out of the corner of her eye, sighed internally and refused to make eye contact with any of them.

The host stopped at a booth, tucked away near the back.

“Is this okay? Or would you prefer a table?”

“No, this is perfect.” Emma assured him. With a satisfied nod, he left her, and Emma slipped gratefully into her seat. Not long after, the server appeared.

“Hi! My name is Ariel and I’ll be your server this evening.” The small redhead beamed at her, and Emma couldn’t help but smile back.

She handed Emma a leather-bound menu.

“Our special today is a filet of Atlantic-” Ariel broke off, noticing the voucher Emma had left on the table.

“Oh! You’re one of the Flight 43 passengers! We’re offering a glass of champagne. On the house.”

“Oh, thank you!” Emma grinned. She could use another drink.

“My pleasure, miss.”

“Call me Emma.”

Ariel smiled.

“I’ll be right back, Emma.”

As Ariel headed off to the bar, Emma perused the menu. It was pretty decent – both the prices and variety. Eventually, Emma settled on a steak that would take the entirety of the voucher. And, she decided as she flipped through the dessert section, she’d splurge a bit and get some cake.

Ariel returned promptly, and Emma relayed her order.

“It’ll be about 30 minutes.” Ariel informed her as she gathered the menu in her arms.

“Sounds good.”

And with that, Emma was left alone with her thoughts. But not for long.

As she lifted her glass to her lips, a shadow fell over her. Slowly, she lifted her gaze in annoyance and found a gangly man in an ill-fitting suit.

“All by yourself?” he asked in mock sympathy, a creepy grin playing on his lips.

Emma fixed him with a stern gaze.

“Yeah. And planning on keeping it that way.”

It took him a second or two to react, but he eventually walked away. She watched him walk over to his table, where he was met with guffaws and a few slaps on the back.

Emma rolled her eyes at their immaturity. This is why she didn’t date men in suits. Or date at all.

She picked up her glass once more, letting the cool, bubbly liquid tickle the back of her throat. She reached for her phone – she’d texted Mary Margaret about the delay, after David didn’t respond (He was probably busy with a case, she had reasoned), and she was almost positive that Mary Margaret had sent her a flurry of texts in a panicked state that Emma should probably respond to. She was just firing of her third _I’m-fine-no-really_ text when she felt someone next to her, and next thing she knew, a stocky blonde man slide into her booth across from her.

He leaned forward, ignoring Emma’s look of disdain.

“Sorry about my friend. I told him a beautiful woman like you wouldn’t be interested in a guy like him.” He said in a Midwestern drawl.

Emma stared at him blankly.

“The name’s Chuck.” He stretched out a hand, waiting for a handshake.

Emma stared him down, and he faltered.

“Listen, Chunk-“

“Chuck.”

Emma’s mouth drew into a thin line. She sat up straight and took a deep breath.

“Listen. I’m not interested in company. Not your buddy, not you. Now get the hell out of my booth.”

He flushed angrily and shuffled out of the booth, hissing “bitch” as he left.

Emma shook it off. She’d been called worse. She glanced over to their table and her heart plummeted as she saw another business bro stand up, his sights clearly set on her table. Emma’s fingers curled into a fist. She’d love nothing more to deck the next guy who came over, but she didn’t want to risk getting kicked out without at least trying a bite of her free steak. Maybe she’d cut her losses and leave. She’d ask Ariel to send her meal up to her room.

“Don’t leave.”

Surprised, her eyes jerked up to meet the Irishman’s cool blue ones.

He slid across from her, with a glass of amber-coloured liquid in his hand.

She could only stare at him in shock.

Partly because she didn’t expect him to be here but partly because he looked even more attractive than the last time she saw him. He’d chosen to wear a black shirt, sleeved rolled up, tucked into what Emma was convinced were tight leather pants. He smelled good too – like a brisk ocean wave. He looked like he’d just come back after a swim, his hair was still slightly damp.

The image of him, his tight muscles contracting in the water as he surged through flooded through Emma’s brain, and she flushed. Great, she thought. She was attracted to this jerk.

“Better me than one of those idiots, yeah?” He jerked his head toward the table of businessmen.

The one who had been trying to make his way over was now settling back into his chair, looking decidedly grumpy, and whole table shot displeased looks in their direction.

Emma turned back to the Irishman and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

“Let’s just pretend we’re at separate tables, okay?”

Emma shot him a look.

“I don’t need your help, buddy.” She informed him.

He smirked at her.

“Oh, trust me love, I know that. I’m doing it for their protection.”

In spite of herself, Emma smiled, and found herself relaxing. She might even concede that what he did was nice, albeit a little chauvinistic.

“Killian Jones. In case you forgot.”

Emma snorted.

“I didn’t.”

“Come now, love. We can at least be civil.”

She sighed. He was right. He couldn’t be worse than the table of business idiots, and he was nice to look at. Maybe if he didn’t open his mouth, it would be fine.

“It’s Emma. Emma Swan.”

He sat back and grinned.

“Emma Swan. Quite fitting, actually.”

Emma ignored that, and reached for her glass, draining the last bit of champagne.

Killian followed suit, and then lowered his glass.

“You might not like me, love, but at least you can try make some small talk?”

Emma raised an eyebrow.

“Pretty sure you don’t like me either.”

He smiled.

“Oh I fancy you from time to time. When you’re not yelling at me.”

Emma rolled her eyes at that, but it lacked any heat.

“Okay, Jones. What do you do?”

“I’m the VP of The Jewel of the Realm Ltd.”

Emma tilted her head in curiosity. It sounded familiar. Then she remembered the sign – she frequently drove past a building that had that name on it on her way to the police headquarters.

“The shipping company?”

He was impressed.

“Aye, that’s the one.”

“So this is a business trip?”

He smirked at her.

“There might be some pleasure too.”

Emma felt a little jolt at that, a little colour appearing in her cheeks, and a tingle between her thighs.  

He was definitely flirting with her, and she didn’t hate it.

He cleared his throat.

“What about you?”                             

It was Emma’s turn to smirk.

“Bail bondsperson.”

He leaned forward, eyes flashing with curiosity.

“Interesting, Swan. Tell me more.”

She shrugged with nonchalance, but felt a little flash of pride at his interest.

“I spend my days catching guys who skip out on their court date.”

He let out a low whistle.

“Very cool, Swan. And kinda sexy.”

She flushed again, and couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face.

“Explains a lot too.”

Emma shook her head at him.

“Oh really? What, my unwillingness to be pushed around?”

“That, and the fact that you’d punch me, given the chance.”

She let out a laugh at that.

“You’re not wrong.”

“Oh there you are! I was looking for you!”

Emma looked up at Ariel, who chided Killian whilst she held two large plates in each hand.

Killian reached up to scratch behind his ear.

“Yeah, sorry about that, lass.”

She smiled.

“Oh no worries. I have your order right here.”

She placed his meal down in front of him and swiveled in Emma’s direction.

“And here’s yours, Emma.”

She started to put the plate down, but Emma reached up and practically yanked it out of her hands. God, she forgot how hungry she was.

“Thank you, Ariel!”

She bit back a laugh.

“Enjoy your meals!”

With one more wide grin, she scuttled off.

Killian looked at her, amused. He looked nice when he smiled. Had she noticed that before?

“Hungry?”

“Practically starving.”

“Yeah, you didn’t eat on the flight, did you?” he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“I would have, if _someone_ woke me up.”

He chuckled at that.

“and risk your wrath? I’m good, love.”

Emma chose to ignore that and dug into her food. It was delicious, and she couldn’t help closing her eyes and letting out a groan of delight. Once she swallowed, she opened her eyes, but instead of zeroing back on her meal, she found her eyes catching Killian’s.

He was staring at her intensely, his lips taut and a fire burning low in his eyes.

“Do you always sound like you’re having an orgasm when you eat? Or is that just for me?”

Emma was stunned.

“Wha-what? I just…really like food.”

She was floored. She didn’t even know how to respond snarkily.

“Not everything is sexual, you pervert!” she shot back finally.

Killian grinned. “You really are easy to rile up, Swan.”

She wanted to respond in kind, to unnerve him as he had done her, but any replies that she thought of made her mind drift to dangerous places, so she held her tongue. Oh God, did she have a crush on this stupidly attractive man? She hoped her light-headedness was because of the champagne and not him.

“Whatever.” She shot back lamely.

He just continued to smirk at her. His hand moved to pick up his empty glass.

“Cheers, Swan. To delayed flights and cranky women.”

Emma rolled her eyes again.

“To rude Irishman.”

He grinned at her.

“I’ll toast to that.”

* * *

An hour later, Emma was still enjoying herself, much to her surprise. Killian was smart and witty, trading barbs back and forth with her like they were old friends. He regaled her with stories from his youth, and she told him about some of the dumbest criminals she’d encountered. He was, she realised, flirting with her for real. That revelation didn’t shock her. It was the realization that she liked it that shocked her. When Ariel finally drifted back, Emma felt a little pang of sadness that she’d have to leave.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Killian glanced at Emma, and then smiled at Ariel.

“Could we get a slice of chocolate cake? At the bar?”

Emma stared at him, wondering what he was doing.

Ariel nodded.

“Sure, but you’d have to pay for the food here.”

“Sure.”

He reached into his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills while Emma handed her voucher over.

Ariel beamed at them both.

“Thank you! I hope you enjoyed your time here!”

Killian caught Emma’s eye, and he winked at her, causing her cheeks to redden.

“Aye, we did.”

Once Ariel had departed, Emma couldn’t help herself.

“Chocolate cake?”

He shrugged at her, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Are you telling me you don’t want dessert?”

Emma frowned at him.

“No, but don’t expect me to share.”

He let out loud laugh, and Emma found herself smiling again.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare steal a bite.”

He slid out of the booth and stood up.

“Keep me company while I drink, Swan? Least you could do after I saved you.”  He said, in mock sincerity.

Emma considered it, and stood up as well. She had nothing to lose, and she didn’t want to go just yet. Plus, there was cake involved.

“I’m looking forward to that cake.” She told him, as he led the way to the bar.

He turned slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Aye, me too.”

He was obviously referring to her previous reaction to food, and Emma, and she flushed for the millionth time that evening. And it took a lot for Emma to blush! She blamed it on the champagne.

The bar was even more intimate than the restaurant, mostly due to the lack of patrons. As they approached, Killian put a hand on her lower back and guided her to a bar stool near the end of the bar, the contact of his hand on her sending little tingles up her spine. He touched her so casually, yet her body didn’t seem to mind at all. She realized she was a little buzzed after all  - she probably shouldn’t have drunk on an empty stomach.

Once they were seated, Killian held up to fingers to indicate to the barman that they were ready.

“Two glasses of Diplomatico, please.”

The barman nodded.

“Coming right up, sir.”

The drinks arrived just as dessert did, and Emma began to wolf down the cake while Killian sipped his drink while watching her, a bemused expression on his face. She paused after catching his eye. She lowered her fork.

“Do you want to try it?” she offered.

Without breaking eye contact, his fingers reached for her wrist, guiding her hand to his mouth. His tongue slipped out and wet his lips in anticipation, and Emma suddenly grew very hot. Her throat dried up. She stopped breathing. Her eyes broke away from his and she stared at his lips. She imagined what those lips would feel like on hers, and heat flooded her belly.

He slowly lowered his lips and took a bite off her fork.

“Divine.” He said in a low voice.

The deepness of his voice startled her out of her daze, and she grabbed one of the glasses. She needed to get these thoughts out of her head. She needed to concentrate on something else. She tipped the glass back and downed her drink. A strong liquid burned down her throat and she gasped.

“What is this?”

“Rum. And a bloody waste if you’re going to drink it like that.”

She glared at him, and he smirked back. Then he lifted a hand again.

“Another two, please.”

* * *

If anyone would have told Emma that one day she’d be sitting at a bar getting drunk with a man she very recently hated, she would have laughed at them. But there she was, laughing at Killian’s stories about his youth, and even sharing a few stories of her own. It didn’t help that he was stupidly attractive, and that he managed to tease her at every turn. It also didn’t help that she was definitely and positively drunk.

Suddenly, she didn’t hate him anymore. They were just different people, that’s all. And he wasn’t that bad. He’d even had moments of niceness! She told him so.

He smiled at her over the rim of his glass, and Emma suddenly realized they were sitting much closer together than she had previously thought. Her thigh pressed up against his, and her hand grazed his.

“Thanks, love.” He said wryly.

Even his constant use of love wasn’t bothering her as much.

“Even when you tried to scare off those guys.”

His lips twitched.

“I thought you didn’t need the help.”

She frowned at him.

“I didn’t. But I also didn’t want to ruin this dress by knocking a guy out.”

He ran his eyes over her, assessing her in frank appreciation, and Emma shivered.

“It is a nice dress.” He said evenly.

“You’re kinda nice.”

_Oh God, what was she saying?_

He scowled playfully and nudged her with his elbow.

“I’m not that nice.”

She leaned back and took a deep sip of water from the glass the bartender had surreptitiously placed next to her empty glass of rum.

“Okay, you might not be as nice, but I’m grateful that you joined me. This is the first time I’ve relaxed in a long while.”

He didn’t respond, but instead stared at her with open interest that Emma avoided by taking another sip of water.

“Emma.”

“Mmm?” This was the first time he used her first name. It sounded good coming from him.

“Emma, look at me.”

And so she did. God, he was so attractive. She wondered what that stubble would feel like between her thighs. What was wrong with her? Had it really been that long since she’d had sex that she was fantasizing about a stranger?

“Yeah?”

As if he could read her thoughts, he leaned in closer, his nearness causing her senses to tingle.

“How drunk are you?”

“Not drunk, but not sober.”

“Me too.”

He paused and pushed his hair back, an action that was useless because his hair flopped back almost immediately. _It was endearing, really_ , thought Emma.

“So, if I asked you to come up to my room, I wouldn’t be taking advantage of you?”

Her breathing faltered as she stared into his hungry eyes. She tried to remember how she hated him only a few hours ago, but it was hard to do so when he looked at her the way he did. _It had been a while_ , Emma conceded. _A really long while_.

Then a handsome stranger comes along and offers her sex? The heat that was growing in her belly flared; heating her thighs and causing her nipples to harden.

“I didn’t think you liked me.”

His lips curled up.

“I don’t hate you.” He said with a small laugh. “And just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean you don’t want to have sex with me.”

He had her there. She didn’t have to like him. He was a stranger. She’d never see him again.  And she did want to have sex with him. But she wasn’t going to let him know that last part.

“Please.” She scoffed in jest. “You couldn’t handle it.”

His eyes flashed and she could have sworn she heard him growl.

“Darling, you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.” He said, his eyes dark, and popping the ‘T’ as he spoke.

She reached up and ran a hand over his jaw, tracing a line over his lips.

“You better show me a good time, Jones.”

In a flash, he slapped down a number of dollar bills on the table and grabbed her hands and helped her off her stool. His fingers slipped into hers, tightening as they strode towards the elevator.

She was really doing this. She couldn’t even blame the alcohol because she felt oddly calm, but very turned on.

Her eyes drifted upward from Killian’s black boots to his tight leather pants. Did he know what a nice ass he had? He must. Why else would he wear such tight pants? Still, Emma wasn’t complaining.

The elevator door opened almost immediately, and Emma was relived to find that there was no one inside. As the doors closed, Emma’s eyes found his. He looked at her like she was his last meal, and Emma shivered. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone looked at her like that – like they wanted to devour her. She welcomed it. She wanted him to wreck her – to give her so many orgasms that it made up for all the shitty experiences she’d have thus far.

“You better be as good as you look.”

His answer to this was a devastatingly arrogant grin as he pushed her up against the wall and pressed up against her. His lips coasted her neck, his breath tickling her, and Emma felt numb.

“Never fear, love. I’m about to ruin you.” He whispered into her ear, and desire flooded Emma’s system.

The doors dinged open just then, and Killian moved off her, his hand lingering on her waist, guiding her out and down the hall. He let go of her to let her into his room. It was similar to hers, though much tidier, she noted. The bed didn’t even look touched.

“Still interested?”

Emma turned and found him studying her carefully.

Instead of answering, Emma crossed the distance between them and grabbed the front of his shirt, dragging his lips towards hers. She kissed him hungrily, and he responded in kind. His tongue swept against hers, and his fingers found their way into her hair.

Emma soon found herself being walked over to the bed, and as her legs hit the end of the bed, Killian’s handed had drifted, sliding over her breasts, trailing down her belly. All the while, his lips hadn’t left hers.

Then he stopped abruptly, spinning her around so that he could unzip her. He moved her hair out of the way and kissed her neck.

“You’re bloody gorgeous, Swan.” He muttered gruffly, as he tugged the zip down on the dress. Emma took over from there, pulling her arms out of the sleeves and pushing the dress down. Once it pooled on the floor, Emma stepped out of it and turned to face him. He pulled her towards him, his lips capturing hers. She felt his fingers trace her spine, and she suddenly felt very hot.

Without warning, he lifted her up and dropped her on the bed. He towered over her, his eyes dark with lust as he gazed at her body. Emma felt a little self-conscious - she knew what she was wearing was nice (a lacy black bra and matching panties) but she’d hadn’t been stared at with such scrutiny before.

“Take it off.” He ordered, his eyes still roaming.

Emma huffed in annoyance.

“Not the type of girl does what she’s told, Jones.”

His grin turned feral.

“If I take it off, you won’t be able to wear it again.”

And she believed it. She reached for the clasp of her bra, deftly unhooking it. She slid the straps down her arms and slipped the bra off, tossing it off to the side. Immediately his eyes went to her breasts, and he licked his lips. Emma’s nipples tightened even more, and suddenly she couldn’t wait.

“Get over here.” She demanded. He complied without a fight, but just as he reached out to touch her, Emma put her hand out to stop him, and he looked at her in confusion.

“Fair’s fair, Jones. Let’s see you strip.”

He grinned at her, his hands moving to unbutton his shirt, and he pulled it off in record time. He was gorgeous, Emma noted. He had a dusting of dark chest hair that disappeared into his pants, which hung low on his hips, and he had tattoos up and down his arms. Mostly nautical-themed, she noted with a grin. Her eyes drifted to his muscles – his defined abs, his toned arms. She watched his bicep flex as he began to button his pants, her heart racing as he began to tug them down, taking his boxer briefs off almost simultaneously. Emma had to suck in a breath at the sight of his straining erection. She understood his swagger and self-confidence now.

He reached out toward her, grabbing her feet and taking her heels off one at a time. Emma’s body felt like it was on fire, every touch sending more sparks up her spine. She felt too hot, too sensitive, like she could explode at any minute.

“You need to fuck me now.”

Killian placed his hands on her knees, his thumbs on the inside of her thighs. Slowly, he dragged his hands up.  
“I should have known you’d be impatient.” He mused. His hands continued to wander, until they reached the apex of her thighs. Then she felt him stroke her through the thin lace of her underwear, and she gasped. Encouraged, he pressed down and continued to stroke her.

Emma’s legs fell open, and she groaned.

“Oh God, yes.”

“Not quite, love.” He murmured. His fingers slipped under the lace, finding her slick folds and causing Emma’s hips to arch up.

He closed his eyes for a moment. “You’re so wet, Emma. So wet for me.” He breathed. Suddenly he moved his fingers away, and Emma almost whimpered at the loss of contact. Killian moved over her, straddling her, his hands braced at the sides of her head. She could feel the heat and desire emanating off him. She reached up to stroke his chest. He lowered his lips to her neck, trailing a line of kisses to the valley of her breasts. He then each of her breasts in turn, lingering on the left. His tongue shot out and licked her nipple, and Emma moaned at the sensation. His lips sucked at it while one hand moved to make sure her other nipple wasn’t forgotten. He switched back and forth, teasing her with his tongue. His hand left her chest and wandered downwards.

He reached into her underwear again, finding her clit in record time and teasing it. Emma’s hips bucked up to his touch. He slipped a finger inside of her, and a second finger soon followed, causing Emma to moan and grip the sheets of the bed tightly. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, rubbing his thumb on her clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her. She moved her hands towards his pelvis, and she gripped his penis, causing him to moan in turn. She started to stroke him, but he gently moved her hands away.

“Easy now, Swan.” He said, as he pinned her arms down near her head. As he moved his body up, she felt his thick cock drag over her, catching her clit as it did. She groaned at the friction, aching for more. He noticed, and he moved one hand down to pull at her panties, managing to slip them down enough for Emma to wiggle them off. His hand moved up and gave her ass a squeeze. He continued to cup her ass as he leaned over her again, using it to leverage their position. He lowered his face to her chest.

His stubble scratched against her skin, adding to the sensations she already felt. His lips found her breasts again, but this time, his fingers stayed up and he rocked against her, dragging his cock near her inner thigh, and over her clit once more. Emma groaned again, this time out of frustration.

“You’re such a jerk, Jones. Stop teasing me.”

He laughed into her skin, and then moved up to brush his lips against hers. He then curled one hand around her thigh and thrust in. Hard. She gasped his name in pleasured pain. He felt so good as he moved inside her that she could swear she felt bolts of electricity hit every nerve in her body.

“Wait.” He looked pained. “We need a condom.” He was right, but looked reluctant to pull out.

She swatted at his chest. “C’mon Jones. I’ll still be here when you get back.”  He rolled his eyes playfully at that. He slowly pulled out and lifted his body off hers, and Emma felt the cold air blow over her, and she shivered. She pushed herself up and watched him (and his nice ass) amble over to a bag on the dresser. Once he was done, he moved back towards the bed, and lowered himself down on her once more.

“Miss me?”

Emma snorted. He grinned in return, and placed a sweet kiss on her lips. Then he was ravishing her again, thrusting deep inside, hands going to cup her ass to he could lift her up so he could angle himself correctly. He managed to hit something sensitive deep inside of her, and her body began to shake with pleasure. She wasn’t aware of anything but the pleasure building up in her, Killian’s hot skin on hers. He moved his lips from her neck to her lips once more, kissing her fiercely as she felt herself tumble over the edge, crying out in ecstasy. He followed soon after, groaning into her mouth as she felt him pulsing inside of her. His hips stilled, and he buried his face in her neck. His chest rose with hers as they both tried to catch their breath.

Once Emma had recovered slightly, she kissed him, sweet and deep, and he responded, rolling them over so that Emma was now on top. His hands caressed her back, her hair, her ass, as they continued to kiss. She pressed up against him, wanting more. She ran her nails over his chest and abs, and she moved her ass up and down his legs, felling him recover and harden again. Her initial desperation hadn’t eased, she was still impatient, and once she felt his erection rub up against her ass, she lifted her hips and sank down on him, eliciting groans from both of them. His hands moved to steady her hips as she rose and fell, his eyes never leaving hers. She felt powerful in that moment.

Whatever satisfaction he saw on her face made him come first, but he jerked his hips up at that moment, causing Emma to climax almost immediately after. They sated at each for a moment, breathing heavily. Here they were, two strangers who didn’t like each other, sharing a bed.

Emma slowly eased off him, and slipped out of the bed. She grabbed her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. She felt a little sad that she would have to leave, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment. She wanted to look back on the moment that she had fantastic sex and just leave it at that. Once she was dressed, she peeked out from the door, and was relived to find that he was already asleep.

She picked up her heels from near the bed, and smiled at the sleeping form there. He looked so innocent in his sleep. She almost wanted to kiss him one more time, but stopped herself.  
“Thank you.” She whispered. “I needed that. Thanks for not being a dick about it.”

She turned and moved across the room, being careful not to make any noise. As she made her way to her room, her mind drifted back to Killian. He’d slipped past her defences a bit, there were moments that made Emma almost like him. That made her wary, but she relaxed when she told herself that she’d never see him again.

* * *

Emma awoke the next day feeling more rested than she had in years. Her one night with Killian had been a major stress reliever. She had passed out almost immediately once she returned to her room.

It was just what she needed, and exactly how she wanted – a great one night stand that she would never have to see again! She smiled to herself and pulled the covers off. She got up and glanced at the alarm clock. She had time for a shower, she noted. And a coffee! Things were looking up.

Even the airport was fine – she breezed through the lines thanks to her first class ticket, and she was even able to grab a snack that was actually decent from a food cart near her gate.

Boarding was smooth too – she actually boarded early, instead of her usual mad-dash to the counter before the gate closed. As she sank into her seat, her bag safely tucked away, Emma was actually feeling good.

“Hello, stranger.”

Emma shut her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She knew it was all too good to be true. She opened them to find Killian smirking at her. She glared at him and he raised his hands up in mock defense.

“I’m not sitting next to you, Swan. You can breathe.” He said wryly.

Emma rolled her eyes. There was a little bit of awkwardness, which explained why her heart was beating so fast…right? They hadn’t said goodbye, maybe that’s why she felt a little weird? Emma shook her self internally. It was best to not think about it. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him settle in his seat, He was wearing a dark printed shirt, tucked into jeans. He looked great. _He must always look great_ , Emma mused.

He turned in her direction, and Emma mirrored his movements.

“At least it’s not a long flight.” He offered.

“And thank god for that.”

“Just think, we’ll never have to see each other again.” He said wistfully.

She frowned at his tone, and was about to respond when a man in a brown suit interrupted them.

“Excuse me,” he said, gesturing with his briefcase at the window seat next to Emma’s. “I think that’s my seat.”

“Oh of course.” Emma said, rising to her feet and let him in.

He smiled at her.

“Thanks, it must be my lucky day.” He said, flirtatiously. Normally, Emma would ignore that, but she wanted to annoy Killian, so she responded in kind.

“Some guys have all the luck.” She joked affably, hoping she didn’t sound like she was too interested. Though, he was cute – he reminded her of a bashful accountant Mary Margaret set her up on a date with once. Sweet and entirely safe.

He continued to smile at her, shifting his briefcase between his hands, fumbling a bit as he lifted his briefcase up to the overheard compartment.

“Just got to put this away first.”

Emma’s eyes trained on his hands as he raised them – she noted the tan line on his ring finger, and was immediately disappointed. The jerk had removed his wedding ring. Between the one night stand on her right, and the jerk on her left, Emma was aggravated.

“I’m Walsh.” He said, extending his now free hand to her. She reluctantly shook it, cursing him in her mind. She’d seen meet enough cheating scumbags on the job that it didn’t upset her, but it still couldn’t wipe away the annoyance that she felt.

“Leia,” she said, unconsciously using the fake name she gave the perps, refusing to even look at Killian in case he said something to contradict her.

 “Beautiful name, beautiful woman.”

_How rude would it be if she laughed in his face_? Emma wondered. He was truly a walking cliché.

“Thank you.” She forced out with a fake smile.

She heard Killian snort, and try to cover it up with a cough. She resolutely ignored him.

He moved into his seat, and Emma settled back down in hers, though she remained on edge.

“So, Leia,” continued Walsh. “Do you live in Boston?” He maintained eye contact with her as he buckled his belt.

Emma was a little perturbed by the strength of his gaze. He was really focusing on her eyes, as if to not look elsewhere. Like her low-cut camisole, maybe?

“Yep.” She said, deciding to keep her answers short, hoping to dissuade further conversations.

“Great!” he beamed. “So do I. Beacon Hill.”

Emma nodded politely. Of course. It totally made sense that he was wealthy. She wondered what his reaction would be if he found out that she lived in Dorchester.

“Yeah, I’m a stockbroker.”

If he hadn’t made it clear that he was loaded before, there was no confusion now. Emma was not impressed.

“Cool.”

He leaned a bit closer to her, and Emma wanted to recoil. In that moment, she was grateful for the barrier that separated them.

“What about you?” he asked, completely ignoring her cool tone.

Luckily she was saved by the flight attendant’s arrival to offer them drinks.

“We’ll be taking off soon.” She said, as she handed Emma a glass of champagne. Emma took it appreciatively. She glanced over at Killian, and was irritated to find that Killian wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he was furiously typing on his MacBook. Not that she wanted him to be, but he was honestly a better seatmate than Walsh. He was lucky too, it looked like his seatmate was a no show.

“You know, I’d better use the washroom before we take off,” said Walsh, straightening up. “Would you excuse me?”

“Sure.” Emma said, getting up once more. This time, his eyes did not meet hers, instead moving up and down the length of her body. Great, she was right. He was a jerk. Even worse, he was probably one of those guys who pretended that they were nice. He shot her another smile as he passed her. _Gross_ , she thought.

“Excuse me.” Emma turned to find a flight attendant behind her.

“Oh sorry,” she muttered, moving backwards, only for her ass to bump into Killian’s seat.

She spun around once the aisle was clear. “Sorry.” She said, flushing.

He stared back, deadpan.   
“No worries, Swan. I’m familiar with that particular part of yours.”

Thankfully, no one was nearby to hear him, and he said it in a low voice. Still, she leaned down so that no one would hear her. She was so close, she could see how thick and long his eyelashes were.

“Listen buddy. It was a one-time thing.”

He nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom.

“Eager to move on to the next guy?”

Emma would have punched him. She really would have. She decided to do the mature thing (Mary Margaret would be proud) and use her words instead.

“Maybe” she replied, tauntingly. “It’s a nice ass, would be a shame to keep it to myself.”

Okay, so it was a more little childish than Mary Margaret would appreciate.

He looked her in the eye.

“Aye, that it is.” And had the audacity to smirk, like he was reminiscing. “Though I’m not sure he could give you what you _need_.”

Emma pulled back and gasped.

“You were awake, you jerk!” She hissed at him.

“Yep.”

“You didn’t have to pretend. I was leaving anyway.” Emma shot at him.

He shrugged.

“Made it easier, though. No awkwardness.”

Emma was annoyed, because that’s how she felt the night before. This man was getting under her nerves. He was too much like her. Suddenly, she had to get away from him. She had planned on waiting for Walsh to get back before she sat down again, but she moved into her seat, stewing in her anger.

She heard Killian shut his laptop and rise out of his seat. Emma tried to will herself not to look, but the movement caught her eye and her reflexes took over. She turned to look at him, and her eyes immediately locked onto his ass. The jeans he was wearing did every favour in the world for him because he looked great. Thoughts of his bare ass flooded her mind, and Emma was disconcerted by the longing she felt to see it again. Or to feel his lips on hers (that man knew how to kiss) and to feel his stubble on her skin again.

The sound of Walsh returning made her come back to reality, and she felt a flush arise in her chest. Killian moved past him, heading towards the bathroom. Only, he didn’t stop to let Walsh pass. He knocked his shoulder into his (giving Emma some serious déjà vu), making the other man stumble.

“What was that?” asked Walsh, once Killian had passed.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just rude.” Emma said. Maybe Killian was more affected by Walsh than he let on?

She moved out to let Walsh return to his seat, and his discussion. It was like he never left, telling her about some boring-ass party that he went to. Emma was half listening, but snapped back to when he asked her a question.

“Listen, I was wondering….when we’re back in Boson…do you want to meet for some dinner?”

He had terrible timing, because Killian had just returned to his seat. She could see his sneer out of the corner of her eye. Emma shot him a look, and he returned a look of disgust. She gave him a dismissive look, and turned back to Walsh.

“I don’t date married men.”

Walsh was stunned.

“I’m not…how did you…why…how?”

Emma sighed, and pointed to his finger.

“Tan line. You probably slipped it off when you were putting your briefcase away.”

An ugly red colour filled his face and he said nothing, confirming Emma’s suspicions.

“In case I didn’t make it clear,” she continued coolly, “I’m not interested.”

She stood up, downing her glass of champagne. “Also, your pickup lines need work.”

Ignoring his stuttered apology, Emma slipped out of her seat, and crossed the aisle. She nudged Killian’s leg with her foot and he shifted so that she could pass.

“What the hell?” he asked. She clambered over his knees (he had some long legs) and fell into the seat next to him.

“Don’t say anything.” She warned with a scowl. “You’re just better than he is.”

He sighed, and glanced over to Walsh, who was staring in confusion. He turned back to Emma with a wicked grin.

“Realized he was married, did you? Took you long enough.”

“I knew right away, Jones.”

“The tan line?”

“You saw?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

Killian shrugged nonchalantly.

“I thought you didn’t need my help?” he said, a hint of a snigger in his voice.

“Thanks.” She muttered sarcastically.

“Plus, I figured you’d know his type well.”

“As would you, I imagine.”

“Ouch, Swan.”

Their argument was cut off by the announcement that they would soon be moving.

Emma mentally shelved their conversation while she buckled her seat belt. Killian stowed away his tray table just as a flight attendant passed to remind them. They fell into a silence as they watched the safety demonstration and the plane’s wheels lifted off the ground.

“So” Killian started, once they were airborne.

Emma shifted in her seat.

“Don’t read into this, Jones.”

“How could I not? You practically threw yourself in my lap just now.”

She jerked towards him, itching to tell him how wrong he was.

“Your legs are long, you dick.”

“And back to my dick again, are we? Missing it?”

Emma almost growled at him.

“One time thing, buddy. It was just sex.”

“Great sex.”

“Fine, yeah. Great sex.”

“Mind blowing, even.”

“Shut up, Jones.”

He smirked at her.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

Incredulity boiled through her.

“Really? The man who pretended to be asleep?”

His gaze turned serious.

“That really bothered you, huh? I didn’t want to waste both our times with small talk. Nothing personal.”

“I’m not bothered! It just…you know… I don’t see why you’d be interested in more.”

He continued to stare at her, with a little chillness in his expression.

“You don’t see why I’d be interested?” he asked.

“We both got what we wanted. It was fun. I didn’t think you cared enough to continue.”

Instead of answering, he leaned his upper body across the divider and bent his head towards hers until his lips touched her ear.

“Oh I care, Swan.”

Emma shivered, both at his nearness, and his choice of words. His lips remained close to her skin, and he placed a soft kiss right underneath her ear. She whipped her head around almost as soon as his lips made contact, forcing their lips to graze.

“What?” she whispered.

He closed his eyes, rubbing his nose against hers, and Emma was warmed by this gesture of familiarity. Surprisingly, she didn’t hate it.

Then he pulled away with a grin.

“I think you’d like to continue this, Swan.”

Emma glowered at him. What was he doing? Was he just playing with her?

He cleared his throat and fell serious again.

“Last night was fun, Emma. And I’m in Boston for two weeks. I think we could have some fun for a while.”

“Oh yeah? Boston is fully of pretty girls. Not sure you need me.”

He leered at her.

“Oh I know.”

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, Jones.”

Something flickered in his gaze, but Emma wasn’t sure what it was. Before she could start to decipher it, his lips were near her ear again.

“but none as delicious as you, Swan.”

And she was back to blushing, remembering how ‘delicious’ their night was. Suddenly her lips felt dry. Her body wanted more, but her brain was holding her back. She knew that this would be a bad idea.

She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to her, their lips almost touching. Killian tipped his head, and tried to move in for a kiss, but Emma stayed just out of reach.

“One-time thing, Jones.”

And then she released her grip on his shirt and moved backwards.

Instead of making a flirty comment though, he just gazed at her, his hand going up to touch his bottom lip. He stared at her for a bit longer.

“Aye, a one-time thing.”

Was that disappointment that she heard in his voice? She broke away from his intense gaze, fumbling around in front of her for the in-flight magazine. The more she thought about it, the more her willpower seemed to desert her. She tried to concentrate on the magazine and an article about Spain, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Killian’s proposal. Theoretically, it was perfect for her. She didn’t do relationships. He was only in Boston for a short time.

She turned her head to tell him that she would consider it, but before she could say anything, he spoke first.

“Don’t worry your pretty blonde head about it, Swan. Like you said, plenty of women.”

She huffed, suppressing a shout of anger. She couldn’t believe she actually thought about sleeping with this man again!

“I hope your dick falls off.” She muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

She turned and shot him a sickening smile.

“I’m sure they’ll fall all over you.”

He pursed his lips, a twinkle in his eye.

“You said you hoped my dick fell off.”

Emma wasn’t fazed at being caught in her lie.

“Did I?” she shrugged innocently. “Slip of the tongue.”

“If I remember correctly, you’re good with that too.”

Emma fell quiet, shooting daggers at him as he shook with silent laughter. She wasn’t going to win this one, she’d better quit before it got worse.


	3. Chapter 3

“So you didn’t bring a souvenir? Not even a sexy Irishman?”

Emma made a noise of disapproval at the back of the throat. “Seriously, Ruby.”

Ruby leaned over the counter and grinned.

“She can’t fit him into a carry-on and airlines really do charge a lot for checked luggage.”

Emma swiveled in her seat to shoot a very innocent looking Elsa a look of feigned betrayal.

“You too, Elsa?”

Elsa giggled, her hand going up to cover her mouth.

“Can we seriously just drop this?”

Ruby wagged a finger at her.

“Oh no! You can’t wiggle your way out of this one, Emma. We want details.”

Her head snapped up, and she glared out into the distance

“Hold that thought. Table five needs more coffee.”

As Ruby grabbed the coffee pot, Elsa turned to Emma, her voiced lowered.

“Were you kidding? Because I’m not sure.”

Emma sighed.

“I wish.”

“You slept with a stranger while in transit because your flight was cancelled.” She said incredulously.

“Great recap.”

“Wow.”

A hand slammed between them, startling them both. Ruby glared at the pair.

“You better not be divulging any details without me!”

Emma dropped her head into her hands.

Ruby prodded her gently.

“Either you tell us now, or later tonight when we have dinner at David and Mary Margaret’s place.”

Emma’s head snapped up.

“Oh god no!” she said emphatically. “They can never know, okay?” Emma let out a huff. “Okay fine.”

Ruby and Elsa leaned closer.

“He was a kinda a jerk, but he was gorgeous. You know I’m not the type to do something as rash as that, but…it’s been awhile.”

Elsa nodded in solidarity while Ruby just shrugged.

“It was good.” Emma continued, fighting a blush when images of that night flooded her brain.

Ruby gave Elsa a knowing look.

“Just good?” she teased.

“Fine. It was amazing. Happy?”

Elsa reached out and squeezed her arm.

“Are you?”

Emma smiled and gave her a quiet nod.

“Damn girl, finally!” whooped Ruby.

Just then, door to the kitchen slammed open, and Granny stormed out.

“Ruby! We’re busy! Quit standing around and gossiping!”

Ruby rolled her eyes at her grandmother.

“Calm down, old lady, we’re not full,” she shot back, grabbing Elsa and Emma and pulling them into a hug. “Besides, we’re just catching up.”

Granny grumbled under her breath, but her severe expression softened.

Ruby exhaled loudly.

“Alright! Duty calls, I guess.”

She grabbed her dish towel off the counter.

“See you girls tonight.” She called over her shoulder as she sauntered off.

They all watched her go.

“She’ll be the death of me.” Granny muttered, causing Emma to laugh.

“Oh c’mon Granny, we keep you young.”

Granny squinted at her.

“Oh yeah? My blood pressure dropped after you both quit.”

They shared a smiled together.

“You girls better get going before rush hour kicks in.”

Emma grinned gratefully at her _defacto_ grandmother.

“Thanks, Granny.”

“Someone has to keep you girls in line.” The older woman snorted as she turned.

Emma had met her when she had first arrived in Boston, broke and fresh out of prison. She saw the ‘help wanted’ sign, and begged Granny to take a chance on her. Granny, though she appeared to be tough, was a softie at heart, and soon Emma was slinging coffee and pulling morning shifts at Granny’s Diner. She’d met Elsa there, a fellow orphan and waitress, and she, Elsa and Ruby would trade customer horror stories during the quiet moments. Emma continued to work part time as she took a course on bail enforcement, but eventually quit once she started to get steady work.

Elsa quit around the same time Emma did, her inheritance finally getting passed down to her when she turned 21. She was able to collect her younger sister from her aunt in Amityville, a lady Elsa referred to as “The Ice Queen” and put her through college. She was even able to start her own ice cream parlour and bakery, and it was just starting to take off.

Emma and Elsa made their way out into the surprisingly sunny May day. “See you tonight?” said Elsa, and Emma nodded.

“See you then.”

* * *

“So Emma, how was the trip?” asked Mary Margaret, as she passed the bowl of salad to her.

“Sad.” Emma said, ignoring Ruby’s comically wide grin.

“Of course,” Mary Margaret said, lowering her tone. “It must have been awful. It must have dredged up old feelings.”

Emma nodded, thoughtfully.

“Yeah, but I realized at the end that I’ve really grown up. I'm not the same person I used to be.”

“Here here.” Said Ruby, raising her bottle of beer in a silent toast.

“Of course!” said David heatedly. “You have a job, an decent apartment...”

“Great friends,” cut in Mary Margaret.

Emma smiled softly and gazed around the room.

“Yeah, I really have.”

“Plus the return wasn’t bad, huh?” Ruby said, causing Emma to give her a stink-eye.

David frowned.

“I thought your flight was cancelled and you were delayed by a day?”

Luckily Elsa came to her rescue before Ruby had a chance to tease Emma further.

“She was upgraded, and she got a free hotel stay!”

Emma nodded in agreement. “A vacation.” She said, sardonically.

“Which you totally deserve!” Mary Margaret said in a chipper tone, that Emma was certain she used on the preschoolers she taught.

“Yeah, you work too hard.” David agreed.

Emma shook her head affectionately at that. “Someone’s got to keep the streets free of crime.” She teased, and David pretended to look offended.

“Hey now, most of us down at the eighth precinct work very hard.” David said, fighting to keep a grin off his face. “Other others…well, they could be distracted by a doughnut.”

“Even Leroy?” Emma asked of the grumpy short sergeant who often manned the front desk.

“ _Especially_ Leroy.”

Emma laughed at that, lifting her glass of water to her lips. It was good to be back, she thought, as she watched the familiar scene before her: Ruby making a mess of the spare ribs she’d piled on her plate, wolfing them down like she’d never eaten before (and causing Emma to wonder yet again how she stayed so slim), Elsa daintily cutting up her roasted vegetables as if she was some visiting dignitary, Mary Margaret laughing along to her husband’s stories. Plus, Mary Margaret was a dynamite cook, in addition to being the sweetest human being on the planet. She remembered when David had introduced them, Emma was shaken by how positive Mary Margaret’s outlook on life was, and then she explain that she was from sleepy Stony Brook and worked as a teacher.

“Optimism is part of the job description.” She had told Emma, a twinkle in her eye, and Emma could see why David, then a beat cop, was in love with her.

David had been on duty when she brought her first perp in, and she’d never been prouder of herself. He’d been the one to book the man and congratulate her, and was the first time she’d had a positive interaction with a member of law enforcement. Then when she got to know him a bit better, she grew to like him – he was firm, yet tried to see the best in everyone. He was kind to those he saw needed it. It made sense then that he rose to the top quickly, eventually becoming chief of the precinct. Emma couldn’t be happier for her friend, especially because the promotion helped to pay for his wedding to Mary Margaret.

“Oh!” Mary Margaret said, clapping her hands loudly and drawing Emma out of her trip down memory lane. “I meant to tell you all. A friend is in town, and I’d love for someone to show them around.” Her eyes fluttered at Emma, who crossed her arms.

“Are you trying to set me up again?” she accused.

Mary Margaret looked affronted. “I learnt my lesson the last time, Emma.”

Emma smirked. “Good.”

“But I think you might like him! He’s lovely! At least, he was when I knew him.”

“Uh huh.” Emma replied, disapprovingly.

“Really! He’s in town for a little bit. Just spend some time with him for a day? It’s always nice to have someone who knows the area.”

Mary Margaret turned on her puppy dog eyes, and Emma felt her resistance slipping away.

“Fine! One day!”

Mary Margaret beamed. “Oh thank you, Emma! You won’t regret it!”

Which is how she found herself at the Meritage the next day, tapping her foot impatiently as she and Mary Margaret waited for her visitor.

“Seriously?” she asked when Mary Margaret where to meet her.

Mary Margaret had shrugged. “He insisted, and said lunch was on him.”

The Meritage was a beautiful wine bar and restaurant that had a great view of the harbour, and lots of natural light filtering through the large windows. Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat, feeling out of place in her red leather jacket and ripped black jeans. _It was too nice a place_ , she thought as her fingers played with the silverware.

“Stop fiddling.” Mary Margaret said, slipping into teacher mode.

Emma sighed dramatically “Yes mom,” she said, knowing that Mary Margaret hated when she did that.

But Mary Margaret wasn’t paying attention. She was looking over Emma’s shoulder, and smiling.

“Killian!” she said, raising her hand to wave, “we’re over here!”

Emma stiffen a bit. Killian…wasn’t that the Irishman’s name? _No_ , she told herself. Maybe it was a more common name than she had thought.

Her head turned slowly.

_Oh no. It was him_.

Looking devastatingly handsome as he crossed the room in a navy pinstripe suit, Killian made his way over to them, his expression revealing nothing.

Emma forced a smile on her face as Mary Margaret greeted him enthusiastically.

“How long as it been? Twelve years?” she asked.

He beamed at her, and the fondness radiating off him for Mary Margaret warmed Emma’s heart.

“Aye, thereabouts.”

“Well, you look great!”

His smile turned bashful, and Emma’s jaw almost dropped open in amazement. She’d only met him four days ago, but she would have never thought that he would be the type of man to blush!

“You do too, Mary Margaret. Liam and Tink say hello.”

Mary Margaret smiled back, and then blinking rapidly, turned to Emma.

“Oh my gosh! Where are my manners? Emma Swan, meet Killian Jones.”

She gestured between the both of them.

Emma tried to catch his eye, to see if he was as stunned as she was. He looked indifferent, irking her. He smiled cordially at her.

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Swan.” He said, extending a hand. Emma stared at his outstretched hand. He was being so polite! She didn’t understand this man.

“Hi.” She said, gingerly taking his hand.

“Oh, call her Emma, Killian! We’re all friends here.”

“Emma.” He sounded like he was savouring her name when he said it, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze as he shook it. Emma felt a little jolt in a belly at the softness of the gesture.

“Killian.” She responded carefully, trying to appear as unaffected as he was.

For some reason, when she said his name, his fingers tightened around her hand, but almost immediately he let go, leading Emma to question whether it even happened.

He took a seat across from her and picked up his menu.

“Apologies for being late,” he said, addressing Mary Margaret and ignoring Emma, “But we had a minor crisis.”

Mary Margaret waved her hand at him “Oh no worries!” she replied.

She turned to Emma.

“I met Killian’s brother when I did studied abroad for a year.” She explained. Understanding dawned on Emma.

“Right, because you were in Dublin.”

“Yes! Liam and his friend Tink took me under their wing.”

“Tink?”

“Her parents are hippies.” said Killian, glancing briefly her way.

“I see.”

“Anyway, we all stayed in touch all this time. And Liam told me that Killian was coming here for business, I thought it would be nice to meet up.” Mary Margaret continued.

Emma looked at Killian, who was studying his empty water glass with interest. Emma got the feeling that Killian wouldn’t have minded not meeting up. He seemed a little uncomfortable. Or maybe that was because she was there?

“And show him around, of course! Which Emma volunteered to do.” Emma shot Mary Margaret a look, trying to remind her that she did no such thing. Mary Margaret ignored her.

“That’s very kind of you, Emma.” He said, speaking at her instead of to her. Emma’s eyes narrowed at his restrained answer. Where was the wit she remembered? The innuendoes? The constant flirting? Finally, his eyes met hers, and they locked themselves into a staring contest until Mary Margaret’s pointed clearing of her throat snapped them out of it.

“Why,” Mary Margaret started, a frown appearing, “does it feel like you two know each other?”

_Damn Mary Margaret and her ability to find out someone’s deepest darkest secret_! Emma scrambled to find an answer.

“We…err, that is…”

“Astute as ever, Mary Margaret.” Killian interrupted. “We met on the flight to Boston. Sorry for not telling you right away.”

“Ah!” Mary Margaret’s face lit up. “Companions in calamity! I bet you never thought you’d see each other again.”

“Something like that.” Emma mumbled, and Killian grinned at her. Alarm bells went off in her head. “It was so stressful, I just wanted to forget everything about it.”

He smirked at her. “Oh yes, everything.” He echoed, putting a weird emphasis on ‘everything’, and causing Emma’s pulse to quicken. _What more would he say_?

“Well, that’s nice. I feel I should leave you two alone to get reacquainted. Swap war stories.” Mary Margaret rose, and Emma felt panic rise in her system.

“But…lunch?” she almost pleaded.

“I know. But I have to run.” She said, apologetically. “I’ll catch up with you both later, though. Have fun!”

Before Emma could protest, she was striding towards the doors.

Reluctantly, Emma turned in her seat to face Killian.

“Hello, stranger.”

Emma glared at him, crossing her hands.

“Don’t _hello stranger_ me. How did you orchestrate this?”

He smirked.

“I’m flattered that you think I did this. Alas, love, this was fate.”

Emma snorted at that.

His lips twitched in response to her reaction, drawing her attention to his lips, and the memory of his lips all over her body burst into her brain. Her legs automatically squeezed together, trying to quell the tingling feeling between them.

“And I suppose you think fate wants me to sleep with you again?”

He leaned back in his hair, hands behind his head.

“I don’t think you should fight this, Swan.” He said, playfully.

“I don’t think you know me.”

In a flash he was out of his seat and in the one next to her.

“And you don’t know me, Swan.” He said, in a low deep voice, his fingers caressing her arm. “When I want something, I usually get it.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. “And you want…”

He sighed if bored, and pulled away from her.

“I’m bored, Swan. I’m stuck here for ten more days, the guy I have to work with is an idiot, and I have nothing to do.” And then he shot her a filthy look. “Or no one to do.”

“Gross, Jones.”

He shrugged at her. “Hey, I’m willing to admit I’m attracted to you. And I think you are too.”

Emma opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.

“and I know just how to fix it.”

“Oh?”

“We fuck it out of our systems.”

Emma glanced around to make sure no one heard him. “We are in public!” she admonished him.

“Then let’s take this somewhere private, hmm?”

“Like right now? But I haven’t eaten yet.”

Killian glanced impatiently at his watch. “I’ve only got half an hour left – I have to get back to the office.”

Emma flushed at his implication.

“We are no having sex on your lunch break!” she hissed at him.

He looked back at her.

“But we are having sex.” He said, confidently, and Emma didn’t know how to respond.

“Emma,” he said, and she knew he was going to get serious. “You and I are a lot alike. We’re stubborn, we prefer being alone, and we like to get what we want. I think this could really work for us.”

“and you aren’t concerned about feelings?”

He smirked. “Why, planning on falling in love with me?”

“As if!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

His question made her think. He was right, in a sense. She still thought he was a jerk, but she didn’t hate him, not like the way she had when they had first met. And if she was being honest with herself, the sex had been fantastic.

“How about you think about it over some food?” said Killian gently as he tapped her arm. She blinked rapidly, and realized that the waiter was standing behind her, with two menus in hand. She ordered the first sandwich she came across, and fell back to her thoughts.

The benefits were clear – amazing sex with no strings attached. On the other hand…she didn’t know how she felt about him, and didn’t want to find out.

“You think too much.” observed Killian.

“Just sex?” she blurted out.

He nodded, his face serious.

Her voice lowered. “I know I should have asked this sooner, but are you clean?”

He answered in the affirmative. “I can send you my last results, if you’d like.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I can tell when someone is lying to me.”

He looked impressed. “Good to know.” He said. Then paused for a second before clearing his throat. “What about you?”

“I’m clean too. If you want-” He cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“I trust you, Swan.”

That made her heart beat faster than it should have, her issues with intimacy and trust aside, she knew he wasn’t lying when he said it.

“So…” he said, leaning a bit closer to her, “does this mean you’re in?”

Emma swallowed hard, and hope that she wasn’t making mistake. “Yes.” She said softly.

He surprisingly didn’t leer or smirk in response.

“Your place or mine?” he asked casually.

She had a minor panic attack at the thought of bringing him back to her apartment – none of the men she’d ever been with had set foot inside.

“Yours?”

“Excellent. I have a room at the Four Seasons. I’ll have a card waiting for you tonight.”

“Tonight?” Emma managed to get out.

This time he smirked, bending down to brace one hand on her chair and the other in front of her, effectively trapping her in place. His nearness both excited and unnerved her. Then he moved his lips close to hers, his lips touching hers when he spoke.

“Yes, tonight, love.”

Then he straightened and stood up, and pulled out his wallet. He counted out a few notes and placed them on the table.

“But now darling, I have to get back. I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you to dine by yourself.”

As her heartbeat slowed down to a normal pace, Emma forced out a sardonic smile.

“Oh I’m sure I can survive.”

He laughed, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“See you soon, darling.”

* * *

For the rest of the day, she couldn’t shake Killian from her thoughts. Her mind kept drifting back to that night, thoroughly distracting her from the paperwork that David had being hounding her about. Just when she had settled on her sofa, determined to be productive, her phone buzzed.

**_Unknown_** : _10:30pm. Suite 1203. The key will be with the front desk._

Emma didn’t recognize the number, though she had an idea of who it belonged to.

**_Emma_ ** _: Killian?_

**_Unknown_ ** _: That’s the one._

**_Emma_ ** _: How’d you get my number?_

**_Unknown_ ** _: Mary Margaret._

**_Emma_ ** _: Oh. Of course._

**_Unknown_ ** _: 10:30, Swan. Don’t be late._

Emma rolled her eyes. He was very bossy, but she didn’t mind in this instance. She saved his number before responding.

**_Emma_ ** _: Fine._

**_Killian :_ ** _You’ll be more than fine when I’m done with you._

She stared at her phone, alternating between irritation and desire. He was an arrogant flirt, but god he was good at it. Being obtuse and ignoring him would be prudish, she decided. How could she be when she essentially agreed to become his fuck buddy? _Plus_ , she thought, _it might be fun to give him a taste own medicine._

**_Emma_ ** _: I better be. There are expectations to be met._

His response was almost immediate.

**_Killian_ ** _: Surpassed. There are expectations to be surpassed._

She felt herself smile. At least she could be assured of a good time.

* * *

Emma strode though the doors of the Four Seasons, her gait implying more confidence than she actually felt. She smiled wanly at the doorman, who held open the door for her, hoping that he wouldn’t suspect that she didn’t belong here.

Her heeled boots clacked against the marble floor as she made a beeline towards the reception.

“Welcome to the Four Seasons.” the young man at the desk greeted her.

“Uh hi.” Emma said, unsure how to phrase her word. “Erm, I think my friend, Killian Jones, left a card for me – Room-” and she fumbled with her phone to confirm-“room 1203, for Emma Swan?” she finished in one breath.

“Ah yes!” the man’s eyes lit up. “It’s right here.” He reached under the desk and pulled out a card and card holder.

“There you go, Ms. Swan. Can I be of any further assistance?”

“No this is great, thank you.” Emma said, as she felt heat gathering in her cheeks.

She headed towards the elevators, her heart beating harder and louder with every step. If she felt so anxious about it, she thought, why was she doing it? Then she remembered Killian leaning over her at lunch, his lips and eyes promising a great night. She might not like the man, but she liked the way he made her feel.

Once the elevator opened on the twelfth floor, Emma felt better. As she passed a floor length mirror in the hall, she paused to check her reflection. She looked good – her blonde mane in long curls, lips coloured red. Her dress was a simple green wrap dress, which she liked the way she looked in it. She wondered if Killian would like it. She knew that he would definitely like was underneath. She had chosen to wear a black sheer lace bra, matching panties and silk hold ups with a lace band around each thigh.

The reason why she had put on sexy lingerie for a man she didn’t really care about still escaped her, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that raced through her when she imagined his response to them.

Finally, she reached his door.

“Here goes.” She breathed out. She knocked sharply twice.

A few seconds later, she heard movements behind the door, and it opened slowly. Her breath caught at the sight of Killian. She kept forgetting how gorgeous he was. His hair was artfully mussed, and his shirt mostly unbuttoned. Emma unconsciously wet her lips.

“Well? Are you going to let me in?” she said, sounding braver than she felt.

He smiled.

“Hello to you too, Swan.”

Stepping aside, he motioned for her to enter. As she walked by him, she brushed up against him, inhaling the spice from his cologne. She entered into a luxurious suite that had a living room area complete with velvet couch. At the end of the room was a large bay window, which Emma was positive had an amazing view, had Killian left the curtains opened. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied through the open double doors into the bedroom. It looked like it was a four poster king-sized bed, and Emma was intrigued. She decided to make her way over and peer in. It was stunning – dark wooden furniture, and the fluffiest pillows she had ever seen.

“Nice place.” She said as she felt him quietly slip behind her.

“Aren’t you eager.” He said, his hands moving to caress her shoulders, and Emma found herself relaxing into his touch. He knew what he was doing as he dug into her flesh, relieving some of her tension.

“You’re good at this,” she mused.

“I’m good at other things too.” He said in a whisper, bring his lips near her neck. One of his hands moved to brush her hair over her shoulder so he had better access to her neck. He placed a light kiss there.

“Straight to business, huh?” said Emma, in a tone more breathless than she would have liked. His hands lowered and tugged gently at the ties that held her dress together.

“We can have a conversation,” his voice rumbling behind her, as his hands slowly began to undo the knot, “You can tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you what exactly I’m going to do to you.”

She shivered, and not just because he had untied it and was sliding a hand in across her warm belly.

“Turn around,” he whispered. She did so, her dress hanging loose. She watched him as he took her in, a hungry gaze that seemed to be everywhere.

“Like what you see?” she said throatily.

“Bloody hell, Swan.”

She smiled at her success. He reached out for her, grasping her by the waist and pulling her in so that he could place a fierce kiss on her lips. Breaking apart a few minutes later, his hand went up to cup her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple to stand to attention, causing Emma to suck in a breath. Then his hands left to push her dress off her shoulders, leaving them as a pile on the floor.

His hands then made quick work of the rest of his buttons, and soon his shirt joined Emma’s dress on the floor.

Then his hands were on her body again, caressing and squeezing every part of her. Finally they were back on her breasts, his mouth moving to join his fingers. He used his teeth to pull the fabric down, exposing her breasts to the air, causing Emma to moan a little when they rubbed over her nipples.

Then he was sucking on her nipples, alternating between both with a hunger Emma has never seen before. She cried out, her hands moving to grip his hair, pulling on it tight. That caused him to jerk upward, releasing her nipple with a loud pop. He gazed at her through half-lidded eyes.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom?” Emma said, shakily, her nerves still on fire from his recent ministrations.

His jaw clenched, and a fire burnt in his eyes and he growled, “Good idea.” Then his mouth descended on hers, one that she responded to with equal fervour. His arms pulled her close, and then went to her ass, pulling her upwards. Emma got the gist, and wrapped her legs around him as he pulled her up. He hands slid around his back, digging into the muscle as their kiss deepened – teeth scraping lips, tongues battling for supremacy. Their breaths were hot, and interspersed with gasps and growls.

She had never been kissed like this, and she doubted she ever would be again.

Suddenly they were moving – He was carrying her towards the bed, all the while devouring her lips. Then he placed her back down again, to help her out her underwear. Bra and panties tossed carelessly aside, and then she found herself on her back, watching him take her heels and roll-ups off. She had to admit the sight was sexy. He took one leg at a time, slowly rolling it off, placing hot open mouthed kisses on her bare thighs. Once they were both off, he pulled her towards him, causing her to sit up just in time as he leaned to kiss her. She felt his erection through his jeans, and she rubbed up against him and he groaned.

“Don’t tease, Swan” he said gutturally.

“Wouldn’t have to if your pants were off.” She responded.

He chuckled against her lips.

“Who am I to deny the lady?” he said, as he stepped back and tugged at his belt.

Emma watched him undress, and felt arousal wash over her in waves. She felt too hot, and she felt the itch between her legs spread.

“Oh now you’re a gentleman?”

He paused at her teasing statement, and smirked at her.

“Oh, I’m always a gentleman.” He said, winking at her.

Finally he was as naked as she was, and he was nudging her legs open. They fell apart easily. She felt him push her back, and she moved backwards on the bed as he followed her. Finally, her head met the headboard, and she stopped. He did not, advancing on her, lips first. He dropped a line of kisses from her lips to her jaw, and then trailing down her neck. She bucked up a bit, causing her mound to rub against his raging erection, and he snapped into action.

She felt him push inside of her, and she whimpered into his kiss. He felt so good, so right. He filled her up so perfectly, Emma almost wanted to cry with joy. Her fingernails raked along his back, as she writhed in ecstasy.

“You feel amazing.” He whispered. Then he started to thrust, causing bursts of pleasure to run up and down her spine. She moved in tandem, and the room was filled with his groans and her cries. She felt him get sloppier with his thrusts, and she knew he was going to cum. He knew too, and he moved his hand to pinch her clit, causing her to scream and come at the same time he did, white lights flashing in her eyes.

Afterwards, when they were both still breathless and satisfied, he loosened his grip on her. He dropped to his elbows, his slick, warm forehead resting between her breasts, his breath warming her belly. He kissed it, almost sweetly, and Emma was stunned by the intimacy of it. It scared her.

“I guess I should go now, huh?” she said.

Killian paused. After a few seconds, he raised his head, and Emma marveled at how good he looked. His hair was even messier, and his lips were swollen from the passionate kisses. Just the sight of him like that, his eyes piercing into her soul was enough to send a new flood of desire coursing through her veins.

He moved his head just a little further up, to bring his mouth to her breasts, covering them in kisses, swiping teasing licks against her nipples until the she felt herself getting hot again. Without thinking, she moved her hands to grip his shoulders, and her touch made his eyes find hers.  Emma was stunned (and pleased) to find that there was lust still burning behind his brilliant blue eyes.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He informed her in a low, raspy tone.

She bit her lip and clenched, trying to quell the desire that continued to wash over her.

“What do you want to do to me?” she whispered.

“What will you let me do to you?” he asked in return.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she realized she loved the feeling of being wanted that he gave her. She was addicted to it. She knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with one more night, but she was amazed to find that she wasn’t either.

“Well…why don’t you try and see.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Emma was having a good day. Yes, it helped that she was thoroughly fucked the night before, but she also had a big break after tracking and arresting a guy who was worth five grand. Sure, in the tussle she managed to cut herself just above her right eyebrow, but it didn’t really hurt, and he was worth five grand!

Even David was impressed with her catch.

“Well, don’t you look like the cat who caught the canary.” He said when she’d hauled the guy in.

She had laughed at that. Once the guy was taken away by Doc, David ushered her into his office.

“Sorry, but I’ve got some more paperwork for you.” He said apologetically as he handed her a folder.

“No worries.” She said shrugging.

David stopped, and squinted at her suspiciously.

“Are you happy…about _paperwork_?”

Emma couldn’t keep the smile of her face, it seemed. She tried to fumble her way through it.

“Hey, if it makes my paycheck appear faster, then I’m all for it.”

David did not look convinced.

“Seriously, Emma. I’ve never seen you like this. You’re positively glowing.”

In that moment, Emma was glad that he was oblivious when it came to her romantic endeavours, and thankful for the dim light in his office that hid her blush.

“Just a really good day, David.”

His expression softened a little.

“I’m glad to hear.” He said. Then he gestured at her cut. “You should get that taken care of.”

She rolled her eyes playfully.

“Yes, Dad.”

“I mean it!”

“Don’t worry, old man. I’m going to take it as soon as I leave.”

He huffed, clearly annoyed at her old man dig, but at least he wasn’t trying to decipher the reason for her smile. Emma waggled her fingers at him, and took off before he attempted to interrogate her further.

* * *

The bell at Frozen jangled loudly, heralding Emma’s entrance. Elsa looked up from her vantage point at the cashier and frowned at her friend.

“Do I want to know how you go that?” she asked, her hands crossed in front of her.

Emma grinned sheepishly.

“Nope.”

Elsa sighed, but couldn’t keep the smile from her lips.

“I can only assume it was a good one?” she said, as she gestured for Emma to join her behind the counter.

“Oh yeah. Like _pay-my-rent-for-a-few-months_ good.”

Elsa nodded, impressed. “And you’re in luck, it’s just before the lunch rush.”

Emma smiled in return.

“And your friend keeps a first aid kit because someone doesn’t like hospitals.”

“A very good friend indeed, someone who understands this is a minor cut.”

Elsa rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she pulled out the kit from the cupboard under the register.

Just as Elsa was wiping away the dried blood, the bell jangled once more, and both blondes turned to see who had come in.

There stood Killian, looking gorgeous. His hair was windswept, and he looked relaxed and casual in a navy Henley and jeans. Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the unexpected sight and she fought the urge to make eye contact. She knew she would blush if she did. Automatically, her mind went back to the night before. They had spent a lot of time exploring each other. She could still feel the starch of his beard on her skin when he mapped out her body with his lips. There were little patches of red on her this morning where he had lingered the longest. But she didn’t mind at all. She also didn’t mind that she was running on five hours of sleep, because as soon as she had gotten back to her apartment, she had fallen into a deep and restful slumber.

“Welcome to Frozen!” Elsa started her greeting line, but Killian cut her off with a smile.

“Best ice cream in the city, or so I’ve been told.” Elsa blushed at the compliment.

“Oh…well…” she stammered, and Emma nudged her with her elbow.

“And Swan. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Emma tried to appear nonchalant. “I live in this city, you know.”

Killian grinned at that, and strode over to the counter, placing both hands down at once.

“I couldn’t forget.”

His smirk made her remember the night before again, and she coloured a little at that.

Elsa stared at both at them, her eyes darting back and forth between the pair.

“Do you to know each other?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at Emma for not telling her about the handsome Irishman sooner.

“Yeah, this is Mary Margaret’s friend. The one I’m showing around?” she said, voice fading into a mumble as she wilted a little under Elsa’s gaze.

“Ah yes!” Elsa brightened and shot Killian a winning look. “Mary Margaret told us about you. Welcome to Boston! How are you liking it?”

Killian tore his eyes away from Emma and focused on Elsa.

“Oh, it’s a nice city. A lot of nice views.” And he had the audacity to wink at Emma. Emma prayed that Elsa didn’t see it.

Elsa continued, seemingly oblivious. “and are you in town for much longer?”

Killian shook his head. “No, I have to head in a couple of days.”

Emma frowned at this. She hadn’t been keeping track, but she was sure they had a week left. _Or was she hoping that they had a week left_? Emma pushed the thought out of her head.

“That’s too bad! It’s supposed to heat up really soon.”

Killian smiled.

“It’s pretty hot right now.” Another smirk in her direction. Emma glared daggers at him. He ignored her, but smiled wider. “Hence the need for something cold.”

Elsa laughed. “Of course! Anything in particular catch your interest?”

Emma wanted to groan. Elsa was just playing straight into his hands!

Killian rose to the occasion, licking his lips while staring Emma up and down. “I’d say so.”

Emma huffed in annoyance, but at the same time, found herself enjoying his flirting. It was starting to grow on her a bit.

“The rum-raisin, please.” He pointed at the flavour that was right in front of Emma, covering up his earlier flirtatious actions.

“Sure!” said Elsa, as she reached for her scoop, ignoring Emma’s glower.

Suddenly Killian’s fingers were on Emma’s forehead.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice low and serious. They brushed against her cut gently.

“Uh,” started Emma, distracted by the care he was putting into his caress, “hazard of the job?”

Killian didn’t respond right away, but instead looked concerned.

“Are you alright?” he asked finally.

She tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you should see the other guy.”

His fingers left her face, and Emma missed the warmth of their presence immediately.

“I can only imagine.” He replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Ahem.” They both turned to the interrupting Elsa, who handed a cone to Killian.

“I assume you wanted two scoops.” She said, pointedly. “I tried to get your attention earlier to ask, but you were a bit preoccupied.”

Killian, for once, looked embarrassed. “Uh yeah. Thanks.” He reached for his wallet, but Elsa waved him off.

“You get the friends and family discount.” She said with a smile.

Killian brightened at that, and thanked her profusely. After taking his cold treat, he nodded to Elsa. “Thanks, Elsa. I appreciate it.”

Then he nodded at Emma, his eyes burning holes into hers. “Bye, Swan. See you around.” With that, he turned and walked out into the sunshine.

As soon as the door closed behind him and bell stopped its ringing, Elsa pounced on Emma.

“What was _that_?”

“What was what?” Emma replied, desperately trying to shrug it off. Unfortunately, Elsa wasn’t buying it.

“Oh please.” Elsa said, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “The flirting. The touching. Making eyes at each other.”

Emma was mildly offended. “I don’t make eyes.”

Elsa let out a short bark of laughter. “Yeah, you do. And he did too.”

Emma bit her lip, wondering if she should reveal the truth, but then realized that it better come from her than be exposed at later.

“He’s the guy. From the plane.” She confessed.

“The guy. The guy you had sex with.”

“Uh huh.”

“The sexy Irishman who was rude but also a sex god.”

“ _Is_ a sex god, yeah.”

Elsa’s eyes grew wide, and she smacked Emma’s arm hard and repeatedly in her excitement.

“Oww!”

“Sorry! Just…wow, Emma!”

Emma groaned. “I know, I know. Destiny and all that jazz.”

Elsa crossed her hands over her heart and gave her a sympathetic look. “You know how I feel about fate.”

Emma shot her a disgruntled look.

“Look, don’t make this a big deal okay? He’s only here for a short time. We’re just having fun.”

Elsa leaned on the counter and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah.” Emma responded, but at the back of her mind, she wasn’t so sure. Still, she had no choice. His return flight was the expiration date for them.

“He seems nice. Kinda charming too.”

Emma cut her a look. “He’s normally a lot ruder.” Though she had to admit he had grown on her.

“Well, you weren’t exactly super friendly either. Most of the time you just glared at him.”

“I’m protecting myself,” she admitted, “and I don’t want either of us to get attached.”

Elsa gave her a concerned look.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, then. Because you both seem attached.”

Suddenly the store felt uncomfortable. Elsa was right, of course, but Emma did not want to admit it. Not to Elsa, and certainly not to herself. She ignored the way her body clenched in agitation at the thought of it, and decided that she really needed to take a long walk.

 She grabbed her wallet from the shelf under the register.

“I gotta go, Elsa.”

“Avoiding the conversation?”

Emma answered with a glare.

“Alright, alright.” Elsa threw her hands in the air in mock surrender.

Emma marched towards the exit, paused at the door, and looked back at her friend.

“Most importantly, don’t tell Ruby. Or Mary Margaret.” She said, shuddering internally at the thought of Mary Margaret finding out.

She stepped out into the warm sunlight, shielding her eyes from the bright rays with her hand, cursing the fact that she had forgotten her sunglasses. As she crossed the alleyway between Frozen and Game of Thorns, the old-fashioned flower shop that had been in the neighbourhood for decades, Emma almost stumbled when she found Killian leaning casually against the wall in the alley. Like he had been waiting for her.

Slowly she moved her hand down from her eyes. She glanced around quickly to make sure that they were alone, and then she turned her attention back to him, and his hungry gaze. He pushed off the wall in one fluid moment, and sauntered up to her.

“Well, well, Swan.” He muttered in a low voice. “I didn’t expect to see you today. Not in the daylight, at least.”

Annoyance rippled through her. “You forget, I live here. You’re just passing through.”

He smiled cheekily and leaned closer, his breath tickling her ear.

“Passingly closely, I hope.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Quickly, before she could formulate a response, Killian’s lips were on hers, at first urgent, but then slowing down when she responded. He pulled back after a few minutes.

“See you tonight?” he asked, almost hopefully. As if he hadn’t demanded it earlier of her.

“Some time?”

He nodded in response.

“Yes.”

He kissed her again, this time longer and deeper, his tongue taunting hers. She didn’t realize she was clinging to him until he pulled away.

“Until then, Emma.”

Until then indeed. She no longer needed a walk, but was in dire need of a cold shower.

* * *

Dinner at the Deuxave was not her idea, but there she was on a Friday night, waiting for David and Mary Margaret to turn up. What had possessed David to make reservations here, she’d never know. Maybe this was his belated promotion party that he promised to throw months ago but never did? She checked her phone. She should have texted Elsa and Ruby about it, but she figured they were going to be late. She had been told the day before, which was uncharacteristic of David, but more so of Mary Margaret, who loved to plan. _They had to have made reservations weeks ago_ , she mused to herself as she entered the restaurant and her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the swanky restaurant.

“Reservation for Nolan?” she told the host, who consulted her screen and beamed up at Emma.

“Right this way. One of your party is already seated.”

That must be Elsa, who was notorious for always being on time. Ruby, she knew, would enter fifteen minutes late. As she entered the dining room, she smoothed down the hem of her dress as it grazed her knees. It was a pale pink number, with a soft v-neck line, one that she felt too girly in, but was her nicest dress. It was one she bought on a whim whilst shopping with Mary Margaret, who practically squealed when she tried it on. Emma had liked it – it was something she didn’t have nor had needed in the past. It didn’t get much mileage, unfortunately. Emma had designated it as her nice event/date dress, and she didn’t get much of either. Still, it was nice to get the chance to dress up. She’d actually pulled her hair up into a high ponytail that showed off her neck. She was wearing earrings! Perfume! Pantyhose! More artfully applied makeup than her usual mascara and concealer routine! David should be grateful.

Her eyes locked with Killian’s immediately as the host pointed out the table. Of course he was involved. There was no way that Mary Margaret would plan something so last minute, and there was no way that David would pick Deuxave. “Too rich for my blood.” He’d joke if they ate anywhere other than Granny’s.

He’d been frowning at his phone, but looked up as soon as she entered, almost if he had felt her presence. She couldn’t help but shiver at the way he stared at her, his eyes roaming all over her body. She took the chance to check him out as well. He’d cleaned up – he was back in a suit, clean pressed and slim fitting. A light gray one this time. A lock of hair swooped down over his brow, like it always did, and as usual it made him look even more attractive.

He stood up as she approached, and pulled her chair out for her before the waiter could. The waiter, whom Emma didn’t realize was behind her, just shrugged and left, his job completed for him.

Emma thanked Killian and sat down, ignoring the way his eyes lingered on her body. He stared at her with the intensity of a man who wanted to see her naked, raw heat emanating off him. Surely he’d seen enough of her – just last night he was exploring her body in great detail (the memory of which caused her to shift in her seat).

Finally, she let her eyes meet his.

“I suppose you’re responsible for this?” she said, gesturing at the table.

“Aye. Wanted to thank my hosts. And my charming guide.” He smirked at her. Emma remained unimpressed.

“You look beautiful tonight.” His compliment threw her off her guard. His smirk had shifted into a shy smile that grew as her startled expression amused him.

“I’ve called you beautiful before,” he said. “Why so surprised?”

It was true; he was very vocal in the bedroom, always telling Emma what he wanted to do, what he wanted to her to do, and he was not stingy with the compliments. He told her she was beautiful every time she got undressed. This time, though, felt different. His voice was not laced with lust as it had been previously.

“It just sounded like you meant it this time.”

He flashed her a grin. “Darling, I always mean it.”

She returned his smile, somewhat nervously. She was never very good with real romantic affection. And this felt super romantic to her.

“Thank you,” she said, rather woodenly, trying not to sound like she was reading a script. “You look very handsome.”

He leaned on an elbow, his palm cupping his chin. Amusement danced in his eyes. She didn’t know what was funny about her compliment. She had meant it, or at least part of it. He really did look especially handsome.

“Why are you looking me like that?” she asked, unable to decipher the source of his amusement.

He leaned back in his chair and shrugged, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Because you’re the most beautiful thing in this room.”

Her breath caught in her throat. This was a ten on Emma’s romantic chart. This was much too high and had come from a man she had least expected it from. She struggled to compose herself, and realized she had to change the subject at once before he got even more romantic.

“Why were you glaring at your phone earlier?” she blurted out.

If her random question threw him, he didn’t show it. Instead he fingered his iPhone that lay on the table next to his wine glass.

“Work’s been a little crazy.” He admitted.

“Oh yeah?”

“The guy in charge of the division is an utter nightmare. He does nothing other than terrify the employees. Delegates almost everything to them. Fucking Greg.” He muttered the insult softly.

Sympathy coursed through her. It sounded stressful, and she felt a little for him.

“What are you going to do?”

He sighed.

“Probably fire him. But then I’d have to replace him. And I don’t have enough time to.”

“You can do it.” And she sincerely meant it.

He studied her with an intensity that would have made her blush if she wasn’t already blushing from her previous statement. Then he let out a little laugh.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Swan.” He told her, an appreciative look in his eyes. She felt emotion well up inside of her, exactly what she had feared. It wasn’t lust, and it was more than like. She cared about him.

“There you are!”

Both Killian and Emma turned to see Mary Margaret and David make their way over, Mary Margaret excitedly waving at them. David looked a bit uncomfortable, but Mary Margaret’s enthusiasm was enough for the both of them.

Emma rose to hug both her friends in turn. “You like nice!” Mary Margaret said with glee. David echoed the sentiment when he embraced her, only with more confusion in his voice. Emma stifled a laugh.

Mary Margaret pulled Killian into a hug too, but David went for the more formal handshake.

“Nice to meet you at last, Killian.”

Killian, who had tensed up when they had both entered, relaxed.

“You too, David.”

They seated themselves (this time the waiter assisted them, though he did shoot Killian a dirty look as he did so) and busied themselves with the menu. Well, most of them did. Mary Margaret, on the other hand, became fixated on Killian.

“Your beard is starting to look like one.” She said teasingly. She turned to Emma. “You should have seen him when he was younger, when he decided a full beard was the way to go. We were all relieved when he shaved it off.”

Killian laughed along with her.

“It wasn’t that bad.” He tried to defend himself. “It was attractive to some!”

“Yeah.” Emma agreed absentmindedly. She was thinking of what he’d look like with a fuller beard. It was still stubble, though a little thicker. She wondered what it would feel like when he kissed her.

The rest of the table paused and looked at her. Mary Margaret and David both looked confused, and Killian’s lips twitched from suppressed laughter. She shot him a side-eye glare as she tried to dig herself out of the hole of her own making.

“I just mean….I can imagine that happening.” She finished lamely.

“Can you now?” Mary Margaret and Killian said in unison, Mary Margaret’s eyes filled with suspicion, and Killian’s filled with mirth.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into my facial hair, it seems, Swan.” Killian continued, still trying not to laugh.

She glared at him. “I haven’t.”

“Uh huh.” Mary Margaret’s eyes flitted back and forth between the pair, clearly not believing Emma.

“Beards are overrated.” David stated, remaining blissfully oblivious. Thankfully before anyone else could weigh in on the great beard debate, the waiter was back with a bread bowl and water.

Emma felt Killian’s hand on her knee, and she tried to nudge it off discreetly. He resisted, and instead leaned in a bit closer to whisper. “Would you like to see me with a beard?”

Hearing the laughter in his voice, she tensed. She hadn’t meant to have revealed that to him. She felt oddly vulnerable. She scolded herself internally for not catching herself. Then she wouldn’t be in this position, with Killian teasing her relentlessly. She’d have to get him back else he’d carry on all night.

She lowered her voice to whisper back.

“I thought about what it would feel like between my thighs.”

He inhaled sharply and moved away as quickly, and Emma couldn’t help but smirk as she took in the sight of his clenched jaw. Two could play at that game.

He refrained from teasing her further, and instead held a polite conversation for the rest of the evening. Only when dessert had been cleared and Killian had signed his credit card bill did he start to tease again, thanks to a throwaway comment from Mary Margaret.

“I’m glad the two of you get along.” She said.

Killian smirked at Emma before replying. “Oh yes, she’d been _very_ accommodating.”

Emma kicked him under the table for that, but he didn’t even flinch.

Mary Margaret eyed the two of them with suspicion once more.

“I see.”

Killian sat up in his seat.

“I hate to cut this short, but I do need to get up early tomorrow morning.”

Emma breathed a silent sigh of relief, happy to escape before Mary Margaret figured out what was happening.

“Me too.” She said, chiming in.

“Of course.” Mary Margaret said. “But maybe we can see you once more before you go?” Mary Margaret, eternally hopeful.

He nodded as he stood up.

“Of course.”

They all followed suit. Once they had gotten outside and gotten Mary Margaret and David safely ensconced in a cab home, Emma turned to Killian.

“Thanks for dinner.”

He smiled softly at her.

“My pleasure, Swan.”

“So…tonight?” she hated the pleading tone she heard in her voice.

His smile turned lecherous.

“Swan, I could never say no.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one has ~feelings~, and I promise it'll get better!  
> I've tried to post updates pretty frequently, but there's going to be a delay of a few days for the final chapters, but I promise all will be posted before the month is over!

As soon as Emma walked into the Rabbit Hole, the dive bar that she and her friends liked to frequent, she felt like something was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was off about tonight. Perhaps, a niggling voice in her head told her, it was because it had been two whole days since she had last seen Killian. He’d excused himself the night before, citing work-related reasons. She in turn had to excuse herself tonight, seeing as she’d already made plans with her friends. She had actually slept terribly the night before, tossing and turning for hours.

She made her way over to the bar counter, where Robin was already waiting with a glass of bourbon in his hand for her. She rolled her eyes fondly, peeling her red leather jacket off as she approached the bar.

“Did I ever tell you that you’re amazing, Locksley?” she said, gratefully taking the drink from his hand.

“You could stand to tell me some more.” He added cheekily, slapping a washcloth over his shoulder. Emma just laughed.

“The others are at their usual table.” Robin said, nodding his head in their direction.

“You sound almost annoyed.” She teased.

“Me? Annoyed? With my best customers? Never.” He said, in mock sincerity.

Emma smiled as she left a few bills on the table. Swinging her jacket over her shoulder with one hand, and firmly grasping her drink with the other, she sauntered over to their usual table. She was dressed down today, just donning a casual black tank top and slim cut jeans. Before she could even see them, she heard Ruby’s laugh, the one she reserved for when she was flirting with someone.

_This is going to be fun_ , Emma thought to herself.

Then the crowd shifted a bit and she could see through. She saw Ruby, head thrown back in uproarious laughter, her hand on a tall, raven-haired man’s shoulder. He donned a leather jacket, and a very flattering pair of tight leather pants. Emma’s pulse quickened. There was something very familiar about his figure. As she stepped closer, she heard the stranger speak in a familiar Irish lilt, and she felt an overwhelming feeling of giddiness take over her, and she couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on her face.

She sidled up next to him, deliberately jostling him with her elbow. He swiveled to face her, and Emma felt a sense of pride when she found that his grin matched hers.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there.” She said in a teasing voice. He got the reference right away.

“Don’t worry, I shan’t yell.” He said with a wink at her.

“Wow, aren’t you two close.”

Ruby stared wolfishly at them, a knowing smile on her lips. Emma felt a vague sense of panic, but then calmed down. Ruby couldn’t possibly know that this was the airplane guy. Or…her eyes moved to find Elsa’s, who purposefully did not make eye contact, instead choosing to concentrate on stirring her drink very precisely. _She’d get Elsa back for this betrayal later_ , Emma decided.

“Here’s the beer!” David and Mary Margaret suddenly appeared at Emma’s elbow. David was laden with two pitchers of beer, one in each hand. He gingerly put them down on the high-top in front of them, and Mary Margaret started to pass out the mugs she had carried over on a tray.

Once everyone’s glasses were full, Mary Margaret raised her glass up in a toast.

“To friends, new and old.” She said, shooting Emma significant look that she ignored.

“Cheers!” they all chorused, glassed clinking together pleasantly.

“So,” started Ruby, once they had all settled back down, “tell us about yourself, Killian.”

“Oh.” He was uncharacteristically shy again, and Emma realized it was because he wasn’t used to being the centre of attention. His fingers went to stroke the back of his neck, a nervous tick that Emma was now used too and actually found rather endearing.

“Not much to say, really. Parents died when Liam and I were young, he pretty much raised me.” He nodded in Mary Margaret’s direction. “And then this one came along when Liam was in his last year of uni.”

“and you had just started!” Mary Margaret cut in. “Remember, you couldn’t make up your mind about what you wanted to do? You almost joined the army!”

Eyes moved back to Killian, who laughed sheepishly. “Yeah, could you imagine?”

Emma could. She really could. She could picture him in a tight uniform, starched whites highlighting sun-tanned skin. She shook herself mentally. This was not a thought she could linger on, not in public at least. When she finally focused back on the group, she found that the focus had shifted way to Ruby, who was regaling them with tales of terrible customers.

”You look sexy in those jeans.”

Killian’s lips grazed the shell of her ear.

Her belly fluttered at the compliment and his nearness. She was glad for the loudness of the room, forcing Killian to move closer to her and giving them an excuse for it.

“Thanks.” She practically purred at him, and his gaze smoldered.

“Did you miss me?” he asked huskily.

“Maybe.” She whispered back. She wasn’t going to tell him that she daydreamed about him earlier in the day.

His eyes roamed her face hungrily.

“How quick can we get out of here?”

Emma straightened up and announced a loud voice.

“Guys, I feel a headache coming on. I’m going to have to duck out early, sorry.”

She ignored all their groans and pleading for her to stay. Killian on the other hand, put on a concerned face.

“Let me escort you back.” He said, in an odd formal voice that would have made Emma laugh of any other occasion. A few eyebrows were raised (and Ruby looked like she was about to whistle), but before anyone could comment, Mary Margaret spoke up.

“That’s just like Killian. Always the gentleman.”

This time, Emma did laugh. Both at the comment and Killian’s fierce blush.

Shouting their goodbyes over the loud music, they left together. Killian’s hand, once resting on her waist, slipped closer towards her ass the further away from the table the got. Emma practically glowed with excitement. Once they were outside and taking in deep gulps of the cool night air, Emma turned to Killian. She had an overwhelming urge to take him home, to wake up and see him there the next day. They were dangerous thoughts, but they were persistent.

“Up for a walk? My place is a few blocks from here.”

Killian’s response was to squeeze her ass.

“Lead the way, love.”

They stumbled their way over, mostly because Killian was handsy and Emma was enjoying herself too much to get it to stop. Finally, they made it to her block, and Killian slipped his hand into hers as they crossed the street. She was momentarily taken aback by the action, but was pleased by the warmth and intimacy it created.

“Which one is your apartment, Swan?” he said, gazing up at several tall buildings.

Emma laughed. “Keep walking and I’ll let you know when we’re there.”

He grunted, and proceeded to drag her.

“Whoa there, buddy. These boots have heels.”

He glanced down at her feet.

“So they do.” He mused, and then without any warning, he swung her up into his arms. Emma let out a little gasp of shock, her hands instinctively going to loop themselves around his neck.

“I don’t have a carriage, princess, so hopefully this will do?” he teased.

Emma laughed and lifted one hand to point out the door to her building. It was then that she saw the dark figure that was sitting on the steps, blocking their way. She tensed, and Killian felt it as he stopped and gently put her down.

“Emma?” he asked, not taking his eyes off her.

The dark figure looked up, and then slowly stood up. As it strode over to them, it took off the hoodie was obscuring its face.

“Neal.” Emma couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice.

Neal stopped a few feet from them, scowling at Killian.

How long had it been since she’d seen him? The night before he framed her for his crimes? She remembered Lilly’s warning about him in that moment. They’d met him during their second attempt at running away, and Emma soon became enthralled with the older teen whose quick fingers always ensured that they had something to eat. Lilly was distrustful though. For all her flaws, Lilly knew a scumbag when she saw one. Emma just wished she had listened.

“I thought you’d want some company after Lilly’s wake…but I guess you’re covered.” He sneered at her.

Emma brushed his cruel comment off.

“Why are you really here, Neal?”

“I…” Neal ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “I got your address from Mal, and I uh…came to apologize.”

Emma stared him down. She wanted to scream and yell at him for all the grief he had caused her. Hell, she wanted to drag him off to a jail cell and throw him in there for at least a night. But more than anything, she was tired of hating him, tired of spending time and energy thinking about him.

“Apology accepted. Now leave.” She grabbed Killian’s hand and begun to start leading him past Neal when Neal’s hand shot out to stop her.

“Emma, please.” He implored.

In a flash, Killian was between them, his hand on Neal’s chest.

“She said leave, mate.”

Neal took a step back, anger and embarrassment evident on his face.

“Whatever.” He spat, before shoving his hands deep into his pocket, his shoulders hunched. “I don’t need you. I’m engaged.”

“Congrats.” Emma said sardonically. “She must be a lucky girl.”

With one final glare at the pair, Neal stormed away into the night.

Shaken and angry, Emma twisted away and hurried inside. When Killian didn’t follow, she propped the door open with her foot and called to him.

“Coming?”

He dutifully moved towards her, and once he was inside, Emma grabbed fistfuls of his shirt with her hand, kissing him fiercely.

“Emma, wait.”

He ducked away, and stared at her anxiously.

“Are you okay?” he asked, gently stroking her hair.

“Fine.” She responded, before grabbing onto his jacket and hauling him down the hall to the elevator.

The elevator ride was silent and awkward, with Killian drilling a hole through her head with his eyes, and Emma refusing to look at him. She was still reeling from the encounter with Neal, but also panicking over Killian’s concern. As the elevator’s ding announced her floor, Emma resolved to ignore both.

She stalked out into the hallway, feeling Killian right at her heel. She opened the door and once they were both safely inside, Emma slammed the door shut, and without any preamble, her lips were on his again, fierce and demanding. And once again, Killian resisted, gently pushing her away from him.

“Emma, you’re upset.” He said seriously.

“No I’m not.” Emma lied.

His expression didn’t change.

“Not asking if you were. I know you are.” He said, and slowly maneuvered her to her couch and sat her down. He settled down next to her, his eyes boring into hers, not saying a word. The silence finally got the better of her.

“I didn’t want to see him. I never wanted to see him again.” She explained, and in horror, noticed that her voice was starting to break.

“Seeing him is painful. What he did to me-” she broke off.

Killian remained silent, and instead brought her wrist up to his lips and placed a soft kiss there.

“You can trust me, Swan.” He told her.

Emma swallowed. He was one of the few men she felt comfortable around, but trust was not something she gave out frequently. However, she felt compelled to tell him her story.

“I was sixteen. I thought I was in love.” She started, and he pulled her into his arms, quietly stroking her back in a comforting way.

“He promised we’d be together. Find a permanent home. And then he set me up to take the fall for his crime.” She said, tears welling up in her eyes. “two years in a minimum security prison, but what he did to my self-esteem was irreversible.”

Killian gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down her face, and placed a tender kiss on her tear-stained cheeks.

“Emma love, I’m sorry. What he did to you was unforgivable.” He murmured, his eyes still on hers.

“and” he said, taking in a deep breath, “I can relate?”

Emma tugged on his shirt, breathlessly awaiting what he would say next.

“I thought I was in love with a woman once.” He said bitterly, “but it turns out I was just a source of amusement while her husband was away.” He hung his head, and Emma felt powerless. She squeezed his arm that was around her in a way that she hoped would reassure him. He lifted his head and shot her a sad smile in response.

“She’s the reason I haven’t dated any one seriously.” He said, shame creeping into his voice. In that moment, Emma had never felt closer to anyone. Here they were, two broken souls, refusing to trust, refusing to love because of the traumas of their youth.

Emma reached out for his face, staring at his sad but hopeful eyes, and then her body moved as if on autopilot, her lips connecting his and moving across them ever so gently. Killian responded in kind.

Pulling her head back, ever so slightly, Emma rested her head on his forehead.

“I think,” she whispered almost breathlessly, “I think we need to make each other forget our pasts. At least if only for tonight.” Then her lips descended back onto his and he understood what she meant.

* * *

Emma usually wasn’t an early riser, but was surprised to find that she had woken up before Killian. The warmth of the morning sun tickled her face, and when she opened her eyes, she breathed a sigh of relief to find Killian’s tousled head in the pillow next to hers. She’d half-expected him to have left, to have snuck out in the middle of the night, but she realized that he was different. He cared.

 She slowly untangled herself from him (it turned out he loved to cuddle, a fact she never got to appreciate before) and watched him sleep for a few minutes. She marveled at how relaxed he looked. Gone was the stress that had been radiating off him a few days ago. He looked so peaceful. She was interrupted from her thoughts by an incessant rumble in her stomach. Emma reluctantly dragged herself out of bed, wishing she could have stayed longer, and hoped he’d come find her as soon as he woke up.

He found her in her kitchen, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, flipping pancakes on the stove. He slipped quietly behind her, moving his nose to nuzzle at her cheek.

“Something smells delicious.” He purred into her neck.

Emma blushed and hid a pleased smile. “It’s just from a box.” She said, trying to be casual.

“I wasn’t talking about the pancakes.” With that, his lips started to nibble her neck, and suddenly he was spinning her around to face him, and his lips crashed unto hers. He was hungry, but not for pancakes. His lips pulled on hers roughly, and his hands dipped into her robe, cupping her breasts firmly.

“To hell with the pancakes.” She moaned into his lips, pushing him backwards towards her kitchen table. It was an efficient anchor, and provided an excellent support when he spread her out on it and proceeded to devour her as if she was a feast. No part of her remained untasted, and she loved every minute of it.

Later, when they were sated, back in her bed, Killian turned to her.

“Emma,” he began earnestly. “Emma, I know we said we’d keep this casual-”

Emma didn’t want to hear any more. She didn’t know what he would say, and she didn’t want to ruin what they had, so she cut him off before he could finish.

“I know. And I agree. Yes, this started off as just sex, but I think we’re more than that now. We’re friends. We can handle that, right? That works?”

Killian stiffened a bit, and stared at her blankly.

“Friends. Right.” He said, stoically. Then he pushed the blankets off him, and Emma felt guilty. Maybe he was going to say something nice. Something that alluded to a future. But Emma knew they didn’t have one. She had realized, as she lay in his arms the night before, enjoying the warmth that his body provided, that he was leaving the day after. They only had one night left. He had a job and a life to go back to, as much as she wished he would stay. It scared her how much she liked him, and it scared her that he might feel the same.

He wordlessly started getting dressed. Once his shirt and pants were on, he reached for his belt that lay at the foot of the belt where Emma had yanked it off with zeal.

“Sorry, love. As much as I’d like to stay here with you, duty calls.” He said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Emma clutched the blankets around her.

“Of course.” She said, disappointment filling her gut.

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

“See you later?” he asked, hope evident in his tone.

She tried to smile neutrally and hide the real smile that threatened to burst across her face.

“I’ll text you.” She said.

“You’d better.”

And with that, he was gone.

Emma rolled over in her bed, thinking about what Killian wanted to tell her. Whatever it was, she told herself, it was better that he didn’t get to speak. The guilt that was building in her gut disagreed with her, and was that regret that she felt bubble up beside it? She resolved to make it up to him when she saw him later. Make his last night something to remember.

If she had known that she got a lead on a bail jumper she had been tracking for months in Philadelphia, she might have tried to convince him to stay longer in her bed. Instead she found herself driving the Bug furiously down the I-95 N, cursing Leopold Shriker and his inability to pay turn up for his court date and pay his bail bond loan. She called Killian when she stopped in New Haven for a coffee, explaining that she wouldn’t be able to see him tonight. “Oh.” He said. “That’s too bad.” She was a little taken aback about how casual he sounded, and she was a little irritated that he wasn’t more upset. Maybe she misread him. Maybe he didn’t care about her in the way she thought? She bit her lip as she considered it.

“Will I see you tomorrow before my flight takes off?”

He said it so quietly, she almost missed it. She smiled. He did care, after all.

“I’m going to try my hardest.” She promised.

“You always get your man.” He said replied in a jokey, sing-songy voice that had made her laugh. She forgot how she had teased him over his inability to realize when she was quoting something, and she felt a pang when she heard his attempt.

“See you soon,” she told him before she hung up.

* * *

Sometimes fate puts you in the hands (literally) of a handsome Irishman. Sometimes, thought Emma, as she banged Leopold up against his car with more energy that she had, fate makes sure your perp is a night bird who only leaves their apartment at 3 am because they think the coast is clear. Sometimes, she thought grimly, as she watched Leopold be hauled away by the Philly police, all the while complaining about the bruises she caused, sometimes fate makes sure that you find the slowest precinct in town.

Finally at 6 am she was back in her car, operating on no sleep and five cups of black coffee, hurtling down the highway as fast as the Bug would let her. She kept glancing anxiously at the time. Killian had texted her while she was on her stakeout, keeping her entertained as she waited Leopold out, and he’d told her that his flight left at noon. She could make it, she told herself. She was positive she was going to make it. The adrenaline pumping through her body told her the same. That all came crashing down when she hit Middlesex County, only to discover that it was a construction zone. Cars were backed up and were crawling for the next two miles. Her head hit the steering wheel, and she willed the tears back. _Maybe_ , she told herself, _the flight would be delayed_. She clung to that hope.

She made it to Logan International Airport at exactly 12:27 pm. She’d received a text 45 minutes earlier from Killian (Yes, he’d sent others, but she couldn’t bear to read them) that informed her that he was boarding. She hadn’t meant to read it, but it flashed on her phone and she couldn’t miss it. She pulled into the lot where peopled parked to see the planes takeoff, and she finally let herself cry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little short (and a little sad?). It gets better, I promise!

“He’s a nice guy.”

“Uh huh.” Emma responded dryly, her hands folded across her chest.

David looked at her imploringly. “I can vouch for the guy, Emma. He’s one of the good ones.”

Emma sighed. Ever since Killian’s departure, she’d been in a sort of funk. After her failed attempt to meet him one final time, she’d shut herself in her apartment for two days. She deleted his messages without reading them because she couldn’t handle knowing what he said when he realized she wasn’t going to make it in time. Once she had sufficiently wallowed (or at least, hadn’t accounted for her failure to appear at Granny’s for a bear claw, resulting in Ruby threatening to kick down her door), she made up her mind to forget about him. She’d done a good job too, she thought.

Too stubborn to admit that she missed him, she instead threw herself into work and for a solid three months, she’d been bringing home the bacon, metaphorically speaking. This apparently was cause for alarm in the Nolan household.

“You’re working too hard.” David had commented, one Sunday night dinner as he carved up a roast chicken at the table.

“When was the last time you had a date?” Mary Margaret joined in.

Emma had been grateful that it was only the three of them this week, that no one could see her blush and know the reason for it. She had brushed off their comments with a shrug. “I haven’t had the time.” She lied. Unbeknownst to her, telling them that had been a mistake. Mary Margaret took this as a hint that Emma was telling her that she was open to matchmaking.

“Even though it hasn’t worked in the past, it might work now!” Mary Margaret had exclaimed. And now, David was trying to set her up with a detective from a few precincts over. How Mary Margaret had roped David into her cupid-esque schemes, Emma didn’t know. But he was surprisingly persistent. He had been on her case about the ‘dreamy detective’ (as Mary Margaret called him), for a couple of weeks now, and he was finally wearing her down.

“Fine” she sighed heavily. “One date, David.”

He beamed at her. “I’ll take it.”

He was right of course, Graham Humbert was very nice. Polite, well-mannered, classically handsome. Really, the perfect guy. If you had to apply to be a boyfriend, he’d have the perfect resume. Emma felt an empty pang when he introduced himself – he too had an Irish accent, and it reminded her too much of Killian. Still, she plastered on a fake smile and let herself be taken out for dinner.

Dinner turned out to be perfectly pleasant. He was affable, he didn’t try to make any moves on her, and was passionate about camping. He excitedly described his last trip, and even though Emma was decidedly a city girl, she wondered what it would be like to see the stars for once. After dessert of a chocolate mousse that he let her finish, he asked her out again. She had seen it coming, and she had no good reason not to say no.

“Sure.” She said, shooting him a small smile. “That would be nice.”

Nice, but not great. She wasn’t sure why she was agreeing to this, but she knew she had to get out there. She had to force herself to stop thinking about Killian. Maybe Graham could help her forget. _Maybe_ , she thought with a shudder, _Mary Margaret was right_.

 So she went on a few more dates with him, hoping each time that she’d start to feel something for him. He took her out bowling one night to a place that had great onion rings, she treated him to a movie, though he insisted on buying the popcorn. And they were all perfectly nice – Emma enjoyed Graham’s company, but she was wrong about her feelings for another Irishman.

The more time she spent with Graham, she yearned for Killian. They’d go out to a bar, and all Emma could think about was how much he would enjoy them. They took a stroll along the marina one time, and the minute the sea breeze hit her face, Emma knew that Killian would be on her mind the entire time. She saw him on every boat they passed, winking cheekily at her. Graham had been concerned about how strange she had been acting, and she managed to pass it off as a bad donut that wasn’t settling in her stomach properly. That had been the final straw for her. She needed time, she decided, to get over Killian. And stringing Graham along wasn’t fair.

The next time he had suggested that they went out, she suggested a park that she knew was quiet. _A great place for a talk_ , she thought bleakly. Graham was a better detective than she gave him credit for though, because the minute he saw her waiting for him, her arms stuffed tight into the pockets of her jacket, he asked if she had something she wanted to talk about, in a knowing tone.

“Graham, you’re great,” she started.

He pursed his lips. “Where’s the but?” he asked. Emma opened her mouth, unsure how to explain. Luckily, he caught on pretty quickly.

“Is there someone else?”

She shot him a panicked look. “How did you know?” she asked, stunned that he would guess so quickly.

He smiled weakly at her.

“You’ve been distant. The whole time we were together. Always staring off into the distance with a melancholy look on your face….I almost asked David about it.”

Her look of panic deepened.

“But I didn’t. I feel like he would have told me sooner if you were pining over somebody.” He shuffled a bit, trying to ease the tension. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have asked you out.”

She nodded. “He doesn’t know.”

“I figured.” He responded, not unkindly. Then he sighed.

“Well I guess this is good bye, Emma Swan.” He said, putting on a brave face. “I hope you get him.” He turned around, and walked away from her. She watched him walk away, saddened by the loss of his friendship, but she knew she had made the right decision.

“I always get my man.” She whispered to herself.

She had taken the long way home that day, all the while thinking of Killian. What were his final words? What would have happened if she turned up at the airport on time? She knew he wouldn’t contact her. After all, she didn’t respond to any of his messages, and there was no way he didn’t think that she hated him. She considered for a moment, asking Mary Margaret for his contact information, but she chickened out at the last minute. Once she finally got back to her apartment, she changed into her sweats and decided to treat herself to an abundance of Chinese food and a bottle of wine.

Amidst the consumption of a decent Moo shu pork, and several glasses of wine, she worked up the courage to text Killian’s number. It buzzed almost immediately after she had fired off the text, but she was disappointed when she read its contents: _wrong number_. She figured that he would have used a different sim here, she had just hoped for the small chance that he enjoyed paying international charges.

As she slipped into bed after texting David that Graham and her were no longer and item (and then turning her phone off so that Mary Margaret couldn’t call her and ask for an explanation), she lay under the covers, thinking of the time that Killian was under these same sheets with her. How tender he had been. How loved she had felt in that moment. How much she had loved him. The realization that she loved him hit her hard.

She turned over on her side, and let herself cry.


	7. Chapter 7

It was a gorgeous day for a boat ride, David had made sure of it. Well, in that he had been watching the Weather Network religiously for the past two weeks before he felt comfortable making a decision. Everyone else had rolled their eyes at his concerns. It was July, and they were almost guaranteed beautiful weekends.

Still, Emma was surprised by David’s decision to throw his celebratory party on a boat. He never seemed interested before, and she told him so when he first told her about it.

“Killian suggested it a while ago.” He had confessed, and Emma had felt her heart drop at the very mention of his name. “He actually put me in touch with a guy who got me a great deal. It’s practically free!”

“Oh?” said Emma, slightly upset at the skip her treacherous heart took at the sound of his name. “You’ve been in touch?” She had hoped she sounded casual. Luckily for her, David had always been clueless when it came to his friends.

He shook his head. “No, this was just before he left. He came over to say goodbye and we chatted for a bit.”

“Oh.” Emma couldn’t hide her disappointment. David had caught on.

“Why the sad face?”

“Oh…it would have been nice to hear from him.” Emma said, letting slip the barest hint that she missed him.

“Yeah,” David had agreed. “Mary Margaret said he’s been weirdly unresponsive to her emails, and Liam doesn’t know what’s going on with him either.”

Emma had grown concerned. What could have happened? Emma regretted deleting his last words to her for the hundredth time.

Emma didn’t get to wallow in her misery for long before David received a call that in turn led to him begging Emma to pick up the keg he ordered while he dealt with a cranky caterer.

“Can you believe this man hasn’t heard of pigs in a blanket?” he had hissed at her while he was on hold.

It had all worked out though, as Mary Margaret told her as they stood aboard on the deck of the Jolly Roger. Emma had to agree. “It looks nice.” She said, observing the tasteful décor and the people milling about. David had invited most of his colleagues from the precinct, and Emma was grateful to see more than a few familiar faces.

“Speaking of nice.” Mary Margaret nudged her with an elbow. “That dress is lovely.”

Emma unconsciously tugged on the strap of her sundress. It was new, and definitely not her style. After she’d told Mary Margaret that things hadn’t worked out with Graham, she had insisted on taking Emma out for a girl’s day, which included a shopping spree. She had agreed to buy the dress to stop Mary Margaret squealing in delight (and it was on sale).

“Thanks,” she said sardonically, “the friend who picked this out has good taste.”

Mary Margaret tutted at her. “You know it.”

Emma smiled at her, and brushed her golden curls out of her face. The wind was starting to ruin all the effort she’d put into her hair. Not that she cared, but Mary Margaret had called her and demanded that she look nice. No doubt so that she could foist another unsuspecting man on her.

Just then, David appeared in front of them.

“You guys are good?” he asked.

They nodded in unison.

“Good, good,” he answered distractedly. “Well, we should be leaving soon. I just have to make sure we don’t miss anyone.”

“Ruby running late?” Emma guessed.

“You know it.”

Emma grinned. “I’ll take a quick walk to make sure we didn’t miss her.”

David sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Emma. That would help.”

Mary Margaret gestured to the stairs that lead the way below the deck.

“I haven't seen her up here, but haven’t had the chance to go downstairs yet.”

Emma patted her arm.

“On it.”

Emma made her way slowly down, the sounds of the lingering guests fading as she descended lower. Her feet hit the floor, and she found herself standing at the start of a corridor, doors on either side.  Two were bathrooms that she tapped politely and discovered that they were occupied, but not by Ruby. She headed down and found one empty lounge area, with a large TV on the wall and couches lining the rest of the room. It was right next to a small bar area, decked out in rich mahogany and leathers. She ran her fingers across the smooth wood, marveling at David’s luck at scoring such a luxurious boat. Finally, she got to the end of the hall, where one final door stood. She grasped the handle firming and pushed down.

The door swung open slowly to reveal a beautiful bedroom, one that could easily be mistaken for something out of a magazine. Yes, it was small, but well designed. A queen-sized bed lay in the middle of the room, surrounded by dark furniture. It even had a window that Emma was sure provided amazing views. Distracted, she moved around the room, taking the extravagance in. So distracted that she forgot the reason that she was down there, and did not notice when someone slipped in behind her and shut the door.

“Beautiful view.”

Emma felt the air leave her body. There was no mistaking that accent. She turned around slowly to find him standing near the foot of the bed. He looked good, better than she remembered, better than she had imagined. Somehow, she’d forgotten how attracted she was to him, and how intense their connection was. It used to scare her, but now it excited her.

“Killian?”

He shot her a bashful look.

“Miss me, darling?” he asked, with more bravado than he appeared to have.

She missed that, his little moments of shyness. She had missed his smirks, the innuendos, how surprisingly gentle he could be.

“It’s you.” She breathed.

“It is. Were you expecting someone else?” He asked teasingly, but Emma could see the doubt that lingered in his eyes. In fact, his whole demeanor screamed nervousness. Was he worried about how she would react?

Emma didn’t respond. Instead, she strode over to him, her hands grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards her for a kiss.

Killian reacted immediately, his hands going to thighs, encouraging them to grip his waist as he hoisted her up into his arms. She complied, her dress riding up as she did. Killian, without breaking the kiss, maneuvered them towards the door, effectively providing a barrier against anyone who tried to wander in. His mouth was urgent on hers, and she sighed into his mouth at the sheer ecstasy she was feeling.

They broke apart after several minutes, their harsh breathing filling the room. He put her back down on the ground slowly. Killian’s eyes never left hers, as his mouth descended back towards hers.

“I’ve missed you.” He murmured into the line of her jaw as he peppered soft kisses there. “I missed the way you tasted. The way you sound-” Emma gasped as she discovered his fingers had slipped underneath her underwear, and had zeroed in on her clit.

He kissed her passionately on the neck, nipping and sucking playfully as she moaned.

“Killian.” She moaned, her eyes closed.

“Yes, that’s the sound.”

His lips made their way down to the neckline of her dress, nudging it down gently so that he could kiss the top of her breasts. Emma’s eyes snapped open at that point, and her hands did some wandering of their own. It was Killian’s turn to gasp as she unzipped his jeans and found a way into his pants.  She pulled down his underwear just enough so that his erection could pop out and she could take him into her hand. She squeezed him gently, and then a bit harder, eliciting a hiss from him.

“Greedy, aren’t we?” he said, his voice much deeper.

She smirked. “Maybe I missed you too.”

With that, his lips were back on hers, one hand going to pull down the top of her dress and sneak past her bra to grasp her right breast tightly. The other hand moved in the opposite direction, nudging her underwear aside so that he could enter her. He thrust in hard, just the way she liked it. Pleasure surged through her as he found his stride, pumping in and out of her. He moved to grip her left leg, encouraging it to rise up towards his waist once more so that he could have better leverage and angle. Their breaths puffed against each other’s lips, and she gripped him tightly around the waist with both her legs, he gripping them hard as he continued to thrust.

Emma had never needed or wanted anyone as she wanted Killian right at that moment. She groaned loudly as she rocked into his thrusts, needing to be even closer to him. He felt her urgency, and picked up his pace. Emma’s head almost slammed back into the door from sheer delight. It was hard, fast, and desperate. It has been months since she had been with him, and it barely took any time before she found herself coming. She cried out his name when she did, feeling waves of pleasure rolls through her. He followed soon after with a guttural groan of his own.

Killian held her against the door as they both caught their breath. She felt herself pulsing from the feeling of him being inside her, the familiar smell of sweat, cologne and sex permeating the air.

“I want more.” Killian announced, lifting his head to look at her.

Emma’s arms went to anchor themselves around his neck.

“How long are you in town for?” she asked. She didn’t care if it was just another day. She wanted as much of him as she could get.

His hands trailed lazily along her torso.

“Does forever work?”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“What?”

Suddenly he was bashful again.

“Remember that guy I had to fire? Well, we finally filled that role. With me.”

Emma couldn’t believe it. Her hands went to stroke his face as she stared in disbelief.

“What?” she repeated.

“You know, the guy who wasn-” She cut him off with a barrage of kisses.

“You’re here.” She murmured in-between each kiss. He laughed, a deep rumble that shook Emma as well.

“Aye, that I am.” His hands moved up to catch her face. “And you’re happy about it?”

Emma almost laughed at how absurd the question was. She realized in that moment the intensity of her feelings, and it made her feel giddy.

“I love you.” She said simply.

It was Killian’s turned to look shocked. He recovered fast, pulling her into a deep kiss.

Once they broke apart, he confessed.

“Emma I’ve been in love with you ever since you sat down in that seat next to me.”

This time, it was Emma’s turn to kiss him.

“You could have told me.” She said.

“I tried. That night I stayed over.” He said, eyebrow raised.

Ah. So she had been right about that. Looking back, she had been an idiot about letting him speak, and she smacked herself internally for that.

“Well, you could have told me you were coming back.”

His hand went to scratch behind his ear.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d respond. I wasn’t sure what to say. Tink said girls love big romantic gestures, but I told her that you weren’t like ordinary girls. We argued a bit about that.” He admitted with a laugh.  “In the end, Liam just told me to get my arse over here and talk to you.”

“Remind me to send them a gift basket.”

She nuzzled his cheek.

“I’m sorry I missed you at the airport.” She whispered.

“And you’re sorry you didn’t text me back?” he prompted.

She grimaced. “You weren’t the only one who wasn’t sure what to say.” She placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, I regretted it the moment I deleted them. I didn’t even read them! I was so afraid that they’d say that this was all a mistake, and I was scared. I’m sorry.”

It was Killian’s turn to kiss her, a soft one, right on her lips.

“Darling, it was a stream of thoughts, wherein I basically confessed my feelings. When you didn’t respond, I took it as a sign that you didn’t feel the same.”

He took a breath and continued.

"Tink and Liam convinced me that there was still some hope left. And I came here hoping."

Emma took his hand gently into hers and brushed a kiss over his knuckles.

"I'm sorry." she repeated softly.

He chuckled lightly. “What a pair of fools we’ve been!” he said, his unoccupied hand reaching up to tug on an errant curl near her ear.

“We got it together in the end.” She reminded him.

“That we did, love.” He placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “Now how about we get decent and we go say congrats to David?”

Emma squeezed his arm playfully.

“Well aren’t we bossy today.” She teased.

He grinned at her.

“You know you like it.” He teased back.

He wasn’t wrong.

After a few attempts of trying to freshen up (Emma had to keep swatting Killian’s hands away from her. _“What, Swan? I just really missed you.”_ ) they managed to look decent again, even though Killian’s hair still looked like Emma’s fingers had raked their way through it (which they did). He took a hold of her hand.

“Ready to face the interrogators?” he asked.

She beamed up at him.

“Ready when you are.”

They all took it well, Ruby whooping loudly and thumping Killian hard on the back. Elsa let go of her quiet dignity and joined Ruby in her whooping.

“Of course I knew!” Mary Margret exclaimed, huffing at the indignity of the question that Ruby asked of her. “These two wouldn’t know the meaning of subtlety if their lives depended upon it.”

“Tell me about it.” Groaned Elsa. “You should have seen them at the store.”

If Emma could turn any redder, she would have.

Mary Margaret puffed out her chest in pride. “Plus, who do you think told Killian where to find us?”

Emma was stunned by her confession, but was even more stunned by Mary Margaret’s ability to keep a secret, which definitely was not one of her stronger qualities.

"I'm amazed."

Mary Margaret pouted. "Living with David thought me a thing or two, y'know." she said, her hands planted firmly on her hips. 

David, who was the only one who was surprised, but took it in stride, and was the first one to start questioning them.

“Remind me again how you guys met?”

Killian shot Emma a wink.

“Well mate, it all started with a cancelled flight….”

**Author's Note:**

> Also - I haven't logged on in ages and saw a full inbox for the first time in forever. I'm so sorry! Thank you to every one who read and commented on my previous works! I did this one for you :) I hope you like it!


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